NYL: Outlier
by Hallowed Aegis
Summary: As the next generation of Potters heads off to school, something odd is brewing in Ross-on-Wye. As Amalthea Quinn begins her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, strange things are happening once again. Will the new crop of Hogwarts student's follow in their parents footsteps? Or will an old adversary wreak havoc on a world they strove to rebuild? Hiatus/rewri
1. A Sudden Drop & A Short Stop

Hi. I am Hallowed Aegis. A few notes on the story at hand:

I originally set out to write something very different then what I ended up with here. I usually try to avoid adding a whole new cast of characters; my earliest attempts years ago came off trite and like the I was trying to insert myself into the story. This is especially true of situations where the main perspective is an original character. Recognizing this, I steered clear of this method for years. However, every time I wrote my first go around, I found myself talking about Albus and Rose with the same voice I would use for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. So I made the call to make a new character to stir up some very different interactions. This delayed my actual debut by about three months. That being said, I think it made me a lot more aware of how I write, what bad habits I have, and how to challenge my preconceived notions about the process.

I will be totally honest when I say I am still changing a few things around. This was not my original plot, and I'm still fine tuning a few things. For example, the entire opening has been changed since the story was first published. It was boring and it made later introductions awkward. So I bit the bullet, admitted the first chapter was a flop, and changed. That being said, I see this as being a long story, hopefully with editions for third and fifth years. Because of that, I really tried to take some time up front to establish the character lens. So please, don't be discouraged by the slow reveal of more familiar characters. We will get there, and (hopefully) it will be better for it.

I really do appreciate any feedback. As I mentioned, this was not my original plan and I'm using a story telling method I'm not entirely familiar with. If you will all be my teachers, I'm sure the writing and story telling will get much better :)

I own absolutely none of JKR's fantastic work. I do, however, claim ownership of my own original creations. I hope you enjoy. Comments, suggestions, predictions, and discourse are always welcome.

Happy reading!

~H*A~

**Chapter One: A Sudden Drop & A Short Stop**

She was six years old again, playing on the floor of her childhood home. Her father, tall and handsome, was sitting nearby, baubles of light blossoming from him wand languidly for her to chase. She ran, giggling madly. In the garden, framed in sunlight through the gauzy curtains and open French doors, her mother watched affectionately. She waved a hand, urging the baubles back, forming a glorious cyclone of soft gold.

And then, ever as always, something changed. The warmth vanished from her mother's wide grey eyes, leaving emptiness. Her steps were jerky, limbs stiff as she moved towards the child with awkward, lumbering steps. Pruning sheers were held without the earlier ease, long blades yawning toward the little girl.

The child stepped back, ears twitching in confusion. Her mother had never done this before. Was it a new game? She hovered on the threshold, uncertain.

Something flickered in dead grey eyes, and her mother hunched over, convulsing. Veins stood out in her neck, and spittle frothed and bubbled at the corner of her wide mouth. The little girl was anxious, about to call for her father, when it happened. The jerking ceased, and her mother, her beautiful, loving, brilliant mother, closed the sheers on her own neck, dropping like a stone a moment later.

Everything shattered. The child screamed, the grass now slick and turning black under the limp form. Something was emerging through the tall hedgerow. A man, broad shouldered but whippet thin, with hollow, mad eyes and heavy lank hair. In his hand, he held a wand. Gesturing, the body of her mother began to move.

And then, her father was there, blasting the man and corpse back, scooping her up in his arms, dashing inside, across the room, up the stairs, and into the second floor parlor. The door sealed itself as he frantically searched for a jar. He paused for a full second, squeezing the breath from her lungs in a vicious hug. The girl heard a high-pitched wail above it all. It took her a moment to realize she was still screaming.

There was a crash down below, shaking the entire house. Her father kissed her forehead, pulled out a fistful of starry powder, and threw it in the hearth. Green fire soared in the chimney as heavy footsteps creaked on the stairs. The girl was shoved into the blaze, the verdant flames licking her form gently. As the door flew off its hinges, her father shouted, "The Homestead!" before sending a jet of green light at the form in the doorway. The child screamed as she was torn away, buffeted this way and that, only to be chucked out of the fireplace many miles away.

And then, it began again. And again. And again.

Thea Quinn jerked upright, a flash of pain in her ankle. Flailing madly, she scrabbled with the heavy down comforter, swearing as she slipped out of bed in a terribly uncomfortable manner with a most undignified thump. From considerably higher above, she saw a blurry form leaning into her face. Hastily blinking away sleep and cold sweat, she began to right herself. A long, soft snout nuzzled her shoulder, hot breath on her face. With still shaking hands, she reached up to stroke the thin-skinned creature.

"Thanks Tad," she said unsteadily. Glancing at her ankle, she it was bleeding sluggishly. Jagged teeth marked surrounded the entire limb. She whistled. "Must've been bad, for you to bite that deep," she murmured, wincing as she stood.

White eyes wide and contrite, the animal moved to support her, easing under the arm on her weakened right side. "'S alright, Tad," she said soothing, combing tangles out of the thestral's mane. "I'm not mad, honest. I could've been trapped in there for hours if you hadn'tve been here."

Hobbling to the window, she let in the watery dawn light, looking about for what had caused the memories to return. On her nightstand, the phial normally filled with silvery vapors had tipped, the stopper sitting idly a few inches away. From there, it would have been a small thing for the thoughts to attempt to return to the initial host.

Easing into her rocking chair, Thea sat with her head in her hands, waiting out the last of the horrors. In reality, she hadn't lived the moment on a constant loop. Her father had sent her to her grandparents home in Kent. She could see it in her minds eye, her grandmother surging to her feet and sweeping her away from the fireplace, fine china shattering on the gleaming oak floors. She remembered the long-fingered hand that had surged the flames after her, seeking and grasping. While her grandmother had lunged for her wand, her tiny, wizened grandfather, his batlike ears rigid and large silvery eyes as cold as she had ever seen them, merely raised a hand in a warding gesture. With a clang that made her teeth ache, the hearth had gone out, two bloody fingertips all that remained of the attacker that had left her world in ruins.

They never did find her father's body. While it was entirely possible he was dead, it was also likely that he had been enslaved. It really made no difference to Thea. He was gone, as gone as her mother after she had slammed the sheers through her own throat to save her child.

She stayed hunched over for a while, shivering in the cool air. She was a most intriguing figure, now swathed in a thick afghan with brightly patterned daisies crocheted around the not exceptionally tall, she was strongly built, broad shoulders obvious even as they twitched, adrenaline seeping out of her frame. Her large, almond shaped eyes were a clear grey, now shuttered and cold. Her hair, her best feature when not creased into the side of her face, was radiant, with thick waves spilling out from underneath her knitted mantle, slightly pointed ears poking through the weave. A thin, rather unfashionably long nose split her face in two, over a steady mouth and an entirely stubborn chin. While she would obviously never be beautiful, it was equally apparent that her looks, should she ever grow in to them, would be striking.

Watching her hands, pleased to see the shakes recede at last, she sat up slowly, looking about the room, considering a better location for the phial. IThough hardly deep enough for a bed, the entire room looked as if it had been stretched sideways, with high, airy ceilings helping to balance the tunnel like effect. To one side of her bed stood a small but serviceable washroom. On the other, the room extended to accommodate an assortment of furniture, including, a large desk a bureau, an overstuffed chair, and several bookcases. Posters, both moving and still, hung from the walls. A miniature brass cauldron, burbling most determinedly, sat on the large windowsill. The most interesting of these, however, was a large, far bookcase. While the lower shelves were filled with titles, newspapers, and other tchotchkes, The top shelf had been left almost entirely bare, save for a moving picture. The people in the image, a man and a woman, smiled broadly, waving and blowing kisses when not focusing on a tiny, daisy-encased figure in the woman's arms. Yes, that would do nicely.

Holding the phial in one hand, she went to the mirror, seeing the thick, cobweb substance mixed in with her hair. Lifting her left hand, she made as if to pinch it from a distance. Her brow furrowed, and sweat broke out on her upper lip. Excruciatingly sluggish, the vapors pulled away, a silvery, memory based molasses.

At last, she collected them all inside the tube. Placing it on the top shelf next to her parent's photo, she sat down again, breathing heavily. Though not yet a wand carrier, her grandfather's heritage allowed her a small amount of magic and control. Still, it was always a taxing, painful experience.

Through this entire display, the thestral had been silent. Now he warbled softly, lipping her pajamas worriedly. She had just managed to tie an awkward bandage about her ankle when a voice floated up through the floorboards.

"Amalthea, get down here! We've loads to do this morning before Olympe picks up Phillipe!"

Sighing unhappily, Thea tottered to the wardrobe, scraped her hair back into a rough plait, dressed, and clambered down the ladder. Thaddeus exited through the open loft doors, relieved his task had been accomplished.

* * *

Below, Thea entered into a very strange shaped room. It was shaped rather like the intersection of a giant 'X', with four large rooms all connected to the center. Each of these rooms – a kitchen, a sitting room, a dining room, and an office – had a strange door in the wall, connecting to some large hall. In the center of it all sat Chloris Stewart. As was her habit, she was sipping her morning tea while dictating the day's schedule to three different StenoQuills simultaneously, barely pausing in her recitation to greet her niece.

"…I have the final touches to put on the moon calf fertilizer before we send it off, and Jobbernolls need to be preened for loose feathers, we're about due for a delivery to the Apothecary. The dittany should be ready to be harvested in two day's time, so we'll need to check that," she paused, drew breath, jerked her head in the direction of a hot cup of tea and eggs on toast, and continued. While Thea ate quietly, she heard her own schedule being mapped out.

"For Amalthea, there's the usual round of chores (at this point, the StenoQuill began to move with violent speed before awaiting the next command), and I need her to finish off that batch of Antidote to Common Poisons for me, then I think Gordon needs to be let out, the Gnomes just ruined the cabbages. She also needs to be sure to leave food out for Perry the Porlock, no sense in risking the herd because of laziness! Then I think she should take a look at the Grove, go take stock of how everyone is doing, and last but not least there is the Bundimun in Harold's stall that needs cleaning out. Make a special note to take extra supplies, it looks like it's started to breed."

At this Thea let out a gusty sigh. Her aunt, ignoring this standard expression of annoyance, proceeded to list off the other household items onto yet another list. After ten minutes or so, the StenoQuills gently floated down, and Chloris rolled her neck. Instantly, Thea applied to her.

"Do I really have to do the Bundimun? I hate cleaning those blasted things out, and I've had to do that last four! You said you'd take the next-"

"Well I can't," Aunt Chloris said briskly, rolling up the sleeves of her work clothes. "If you'd been more attentive, you'd have noticed that I specifically mentioned pruning the Venomous Tentacula today, and that'll be a job and a half. And no," she said, seeing her niece surge in her seat, "you can't do this one, it's one of our older plants. Far more vicious, and not the sort of thing a young witch ought to be messing about with. It's the Bundimun for you today, and that's final."

Thea sighed, kicking her ankles against her chair. Chloris, watching her niece in the mirror as she began to plait her gleaming black hair, softened ever so slightly. Tying a bandana around her head (and covering her large, slightly pointed ears), she tutted.

"Come on, chin up. The letter's bound to arrive any day now. The sooner you get back from all your work, the sooner post will have arrived. So go on, off you trot!"

* * *

Thea had finished adding extra straw to the moon calf bay when she felt a tingle up her neck. Sighing, she turned to find Thaddeus staring. Milky white eyes followed her, but his neck was bowed, and his tail drooped.

"I'm not mad, Thaddeus," she said gently, running her fingers through his mane. "I just wish you wouldn't pull me out of bed in the morning. A nudge'd work just fine, no need to steal the blanket!"

The spectral horse gave a soft, warbling cry, and straightened. She grinned, and he nudged her impatiently toward the end of the stable wing.

"I can't go out yet, mate. I've still got to go to the mews in Stable Three, and add logs to the Salamander hearth, and then I have to go take Gordon for a trot around the vegetable garden." At this, the Thestral gave an offended squawk.

"You can come too, of course," she added hastily. "Afterwards I just have to head over to the Grove, make sure everything's fine. We could play catch on our way back, how's that?"

Thaddeus ruffled his bat like wings, and butted his head against her chest.

"I'll hurry, I promise," she said earnestly. "Besides, I could use some company. Gordon's going to be absolutely foul, I know it."

* * *

Her prediction had more than come to fruition a half hour later, as she walked their resident Jarvey, Gordon, on a lead about the kitchen garden. Gordon, like all Jarveys, was spewing a disgusting assortment of curses and insults, making the walk a very instructive but verbally unappetizing exercise. He had managed to break away from her once, gleefully taking a large chunk out a Gnome's leg as he sought to disembowel it. Thankfully, Thaddeus had ushered him back, allowing Gordon's erstwhile prey to duck under the fence, dart through the hedges, and make a bid for safety.

Gordon was licking his teeth clean of the Gnome's blood and flesh with obvious relish while Thea railed against him, dusting off her dirt and grass streaked jeans.

"Honestly, you'd think we didn't feed you! The whole point of giving you all of Thaddeus' leftovers is so you don't go on some homicidal rampage! You don't need to eat them; you just have to scare them off! You lead a pretty cushy life here, Gordon, how'd you feel if Auntie turned you out in the cold?"

The oversized ferret was now cleaning his claws. "Bugger off, clunge."

Thea blushed to to the tips of her slightly pointed ears. This why by no means the worst Gordon had ever said to her, but it was close. Walking the Jarvey always resulted in these off color exchanges, but it was still uncomfortable at best. She struggled to think of a suitably heated retort.

Thaddeus had no such hesitation. The Thestral lunged, sharp teeth making an audible click a scant inch from the Jarvey's nose. Thea was almost bowled over as the Jarvey scuttled behind her, shrieking, "Bloody hell!"

"Alright Gordon, you keep your mouth shut or I'll let him at you. Understand?" Thea said fiercely. The creature nodded fervently, pulling at the lead towards the safety of its stable. Thaddeus limped along behind, ghostly eyes leveled malevolently at the retreating weasel.

* * *

Thea left the Jarvey in his pen, where he promptly burrowed under hay in the corner farthest from Thaddeus, who had settled himself just outside. The Thestral seemed determined to make an impression regarding manners, and indeed began making all sorts of warbles and shrieks, as if lecturing the errant Jarvey. Shaking her head at the thought of Thaddeus teaching any creature manners, Thea stopped by the supply closet, grabbed a bucket, and proceeded down the aisle towards the feed station. There, she ladled what looked like brown rice, with the exception being that this rice moved. Clamping a lid on the bucket, she made her way outdoors again, this time heading towards the western edge of the property. She took a peek over one of the hedges, and saw her aunt gamely pruning leaves off the large red thing, steadily working her way around the giant plant.

Thea continued down the dusty path, ducking under the far fence and entering into a quiet, shady grove. Trees of all shapes and sizes grew around her, tall trees, short trees, slender or gnarled trees. High in the branches, she saw bright points of light following her every move.

At the base of each tree, she dropped a handful of wood lice, watching out of the corner of her eye as a quick shower of twigs hit the ground, and began to move. These were the bowtruckles, guardians of the wand trees, and Thea's favorite part of living at Chloris' Forms. With the bowtruckles focused on the food, she took time to look them over, compiling a mental report for her aunt. After five minutes, they began to retreat to the trees, and Thea, satisfied, continued on to the last tree.

She stopped at the edge of the water meadow, which was blooming in an almost violent fashion. A riot of color had broken the surface of the green water, becoming a fanciful tapestry. At the edge, looming over the other trees, stood a proud, gnarled yew tree.

It was her favorite, having come from her parent's garden with her when she was six. It was also a testament to her first use of magic. Three weeks after she had moved in with her aunt, a brutal storm had blown in from the channel, threatening this last remaining link to her old life. She had gone to bed in tears, knowing the sapling would be broken when she awoke. The next morning, she woke, groggy and aching. She had stumbled haphazardly through the grove to find its remains, only to see a fully-grown yew in its place. Where the sapling had been, a thirty-year-old yew stood, hardy and immune to the elements.

Now, she stroked its trunk, and tossed an extra large handful of wood lice for the tree's bowtruckle. Her job finished, she sat at its roots, waiting for Thaddeus to arrive.

She looked up through the leaves, and sighed. As always when she was in the grove, she began talking. Aunt Chloris encouraged this behavior, saying that the more the bowtruckles became used to a person, the less fuss they'd kick up if the tree needed tending.

"Well let's see, everyone's accounted for. Owen of Rowan seems to recovering from the hail storm nicely, and Claire from Pear's grown a bit, she'll do nicely down the line," she said, rattling off the grove's occupants.

"And I know you're up their, Old Man Hugh," she called, opening one eye to look at the swaying branches above. "I can't leave until I see you, you know. Auntie insisted that I check on everyone, so don't you get your bark in a twist." Above, a shadow moved. Cautiously, a small twig like creature came into view, just long enough to be seen.

Thea stood, rolling her shoulders. She turned to rest her cheek lightly on the warm bark, breathing in the heady scent of the warmed wood.

"This might be the last time you see me. This season, I mean. Auntie says that my letter is bound to be delivered sooner or later, and that means I'll be off to school in no time. Then, who knows? I may not be back till next summer."

A rustling above made her look up, instantly suspicious. While the yew tree was her favorite, she had a healthy respect for its occupant, Hugh.

"Hugh, what on earth…?"

Abruptly, a hefty branch came plummeting earthward, aimed right at her head.


	2. An Active Recovery

Welcome back, folks! So Thea's out cold at the moment. We do have a bit to get through before we get to the fun stuff. However, I've always pictured this as being a long series (think years 1, 3, 5, and 7), so there IS a reason for it. Your input, thoughts, and helpful criticisms are always welcome.

I own absolutely none of JKR's fantastic work. I do, however, claim ownership of my (few) own original creations. I hope you enjoy. Thanks again for stopping by!

**Chapter Two: An Active Recovery**

When Thea came to, she was staring at the familiar beams of her loft bedroom. The light drove lances through her eyes, and she instantly wished she hadn't opened them. Her head ached something fierce, and the room tilted dangerously when she tried to sit up.

Instantly cool, brisk hands steadied her. A familiar tutting sound came from somewhere far above.

"Lay back down, you silly girl. You're not to sit until you've had a drop of my physic," her aunt's stern voice said, cutting through the throbbing miasma that swirled behind her closed eyes.

Obediently, Thea opened her mouth, knowing full well the physic would taste horrible. It did, some strange concoction tasting of radishes, salt, tomatoes, and rotten peaches. However, as soon as she swallowed the mess, the pain began to recede. Slowly, she sat up, and opened her eyes.

Chloris was leaning over her, her heavy brows drawn in a frown as she inspected her. Black hair slipped into her face, and she impatiently flicked it back.

"What happened," Thea asked blearily, becoming uncomfortably aware of the heavy film that coated her teeth.

Chloris leaned forward, lifting an eyelid and feeling for a pulse. Apparently satisfied, she sat back in a rocking chair by the bed.

"It was quite the affair," she said coolly, waving her wand lazily toward a tea tray on Thea's desk. Gently clinking, the tray hovered to her bedside table, where it began to prepare itself.

"Thaddeus had just gone out after you, and all of a sudden, Hugh came bolting over the hill and created all sorts of a to-do outside my office. Frightened the begonias terribly. Naturally, I hurried to see what the problem was. And there you were, Thaddeus standing guard, the bowtruckles in an uproar, and you with a rather large knot on your head. I conjured a stretcher and brought you back, and that was that."

Thea raised her hand to her head, but Aunt Chloris caught it and forced it down.

"No, dear, leave it be. Anyway, that was yesterday. I set a nice healing charm, and since you were settled, we've just been waiting."

Thea wracked her brain. She had been talking to Hugh right before. Then there had been a rustling above, she remembered that.

"But, what exactly hit me?" she asked, bewildered.

Her aunt flashed a mysterious smile. "Do you mind me asking what topic you chose for discussion that day?"

Thea shrugged. "I was telling Old Man Hugh that I needed to check up on him, and that I wouldn't see him for a while and then, nothing." She gingerly rolled her head, and, suffering no ill affects, began to test out her other limbs.

Chloris' smile broadened. She again waved her wand, and a hefty branch appeared, landing lightly on the bed.

"It seems the tree meant to give you a parting gift. And you, silly clunch, were standing right under it."

Thea began to inspect it curiously. It was yew, the branch nearly as long as her arm. There was a clean cut at one end, as if it had been neatly severed from the tree. There were no errant twigs or leaves, no patches of moss or overgrowth. All in all, it looked like a healthy, if overly pruned, branch. She lifted it, impressed with its weight.

Her aunt continued her rehashing of events. "It's no wonder Hugh came in such a terror. Imagine, a bowtruckle and wand tree giving a gift, and having the gift knock the recipient unconscious! I daresay Ollivander will find your story most amusing when we get your wand made," she chuckled.

"Get my wand… made?" Thea asked, confused. Maybe the branch had done some damage after all…

Briskly, her aunt passed her the finished tea. "Of course. You don't turn your nose up at a gift from a wand tree. We'll take that in, see if it has an affinity with you. If not, I'm sure Ollivander can find _some_ use for it. Dead clever, that man." With a groan, Chloris stood up, hands at the small of her back.

"Now, seeing as you are on the mend, I dare say it's time to get up. Have a wash, I'll conjure up some breakfast, and then we'll get to work on today's chores."

Seeing her niece look aghast, her Aunt's heavy brows rose heavenward. "Yesterday's ruckus caused me to lose half the afternoon. Unless you want us to fall terribly behind schedule, we need to get caught up. I'll see you in the kitchen in…" Chloris consulted her pocket watch, "thirty minutes. Don't dawdle."

Her aunt Vanished the tea tray, and then made for the ladder. Halfway down, she stopped.

"Oh, and see if you can do anything about that Thestral of yours. He's been positively bothersome since the whole affair, I had to spell the shutters shut!"

* * *

Thea didn't dawdle. She showered quickly, and then hobbled down the ladder to Thaddeus's stall. The Thestral nearly battered down the door to get at her. She lifted the latch and slipped inside before he could do any serious damage.

"Easy Tad, I'm fine, just a little banged up is all," she said, running her fingers through the fine hairs of his mane. Thaddeus, patently not believing her, wuffled through her hair, lipped at her clothes, and generally gave a thoroughly Thestral-approved going over before calming down. Thea bore it all patiently, wincing only when his carrion-scented breath hit her face. At least he hadn't been off his feed.

"Honestly, Tad, I'm alright," she murmured, putting her forehead on his. The horse quivered, shuffling uneasily, and then settled.

"I have to go help Auntie with the chores," she said quietly, moving toward the door. Thaddeus followed, plainly not planning on letting her out of sight.

Thea rolled her eyes. "Alright, fine, follow me, but this can't go on forever."

* * *

If Aunt Chloris found anything amusing about an adolescent thestral trailing after her niece like a nursemaid, she hid it well. For the next few days, Thea felt like she had acquired a rather large, carnivorous shadow. It only seemed to allow her privacy in the loo, and then only begrudgingly. Thea wavered between extremes, finding Tad's actions either extremely annoying or endearing by turns, though mostly she thought they were a mix of the two. The creature hadn't been this clingy since she had first taken him under her wing, a fresh breech birthed foal with a bad leg and mother who died in child birth.

It was not for the first time the Thea severely resented her aunt's attitude regarding the importance of manual labor and a strongly ingrained work ethic. Despite her persistent aches and pains, Thea found herself mucking out stalls, scrubbing stables, weeding the Devil's Snare sprouts, and performing all sorts of menial, mindless chores. Though she had always enjoyed the benefits of living on the farm, she reflected as she once again submitted herself to her aunt's restorative physic, she was getting rather tired of the duties that left her bruised or scarred. It was during these darker moments that she most enjoyed Tad's attentions. Whatever task was handed down from on high, he was always present. He also had proven especially adept at keeping her from being strangled by the Devil's Snare.

It was on the fourth morning of this behavior that Chloris intervened. Instead of receiving her usual rough and tumble, Thaddeus-style alarm, Thea had the slightly less painful (but no less alarming) sensation of being prodded awake by her aunt.

"Mmph, no Tad, m'fine, I swear-" She moaned, trying to burrow deeper into her blankets.

"I do not like being compared to a juvenile, flesh-eating horse, however sweet tempered," Chloris said flatly. Her Aunt's voice had an immediate effect. Thea sat upright, feeling as if she had just undergone Shock Treatment at St. Mungo's.

"Now that you're awake, you ought to get downstairs. You've overslept, and it looks like we can expect Owl Post today," her aunt said testily.

Thea felt as if her brain was still trying to catch up to her body. "Auntie, we a-always get Owl Post," she yawned, stretching.

"_I_ always get Owl Post," Aunt Chloris corrected snappishly. "_You_, however, may find a letter of special significance. Of course, if it's too much trouble, you could always go back to bed."

Thea leapt out of bed as though stung. Of course, how could she have been so daft; it could be The Letter!

Nodding her approval, Chloris made for the ladder.

"I'd hurry up now, Amalthea. The longer you wait, the longer your chore list will be," she said as she descended, her threat hanging in the air.

* * *

By the time Thea had clambered down the steps, her aunt had a steaming mug of tea waiting for her. Eggs and sausage were sizzling merrily in a skillet, which tended itself. Chloris, oddly serene, was finishing off her own letters to be sent out that morning. Thea had the sneaking suspicion that her aunt was just as excited as she was. This was confirmed when, upon concluding her correspondence, her aunt ignored the StenoQuill, and instead began to plate their meal.

They took their breakfast by one of the large windows looking onto north garden, so as to better watch for any approaching post. Thea found herself kicking her heels anxiously against the back of the chair. She was able to stop, only to find herself tearing her napkin into smaller and smaller pieces. Chloris seemed just as distracted, her eyes glazed over as she attempted to again read the same page in _1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

After what seemed like hours, a dark speck appeared over the treetops. Throat dry, Thea watched as it drew closer and closer, unable to look at her aunt. Chloris, however, seemed to settle at last, raising her book to hide her half smile.

At long last, the owl flew in through the open window, and landed on the table. Thea fumbled with the letter, her fingers shaking too much at first to get a proper grip. Finally divested of its packet, the owl ruffled its feathers. Chloris offered it a bit of sausage and a cup of tea. Refreshed, it flew off a few minutes later.

Thea was still staring at the letter in her lap long after the bird had flown off. It had been meticulously addressed, clearly meant for her.

Ms. Amalthea Quinn

Loft above Stable Two

Chloris' Forms

Ross-On-Wye, Herefordshire

Chloris patted her on the shoulder, and went over to her office, where she began drawing up lists. Thea carefully opened the letter, breathing deeply.

_Dear Miss Quinn,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all required books and equipment._

_Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Neville Longbottom_

_Deputy Headmaster_

Thea read the letter over and over again, her eyes roving greedily, taking in the green ink, the embossed crest. She wanted to cement these things in her mind, to always have this moment as something special.

Chloris had drifted over. Reading over her niece's shoulder, she nodded. "Right then. Best hustle up to the mews, you can send our response with Svanhild. You can post this with the same owl, as they'll both need to get to Professor Longbottom," she said crisply, handing over two letters.

Thea nodded dumbly, sitting mute. Chloris nudged her niece.

"Most witches are excited, you know," she said, trying for a smile. Thea wouldn't meet her eyes. "What is it, girl?" she asked, hunkering down to get on eye level.

Thea took a shaky breath. She was struck but an overwhelming desire to lie, to insist she was fine. But she knew her Aunt would see through it in an instant. She steadied herself, and tried to find the words.

"It's just… it means it's all real now. That I'm really going. That I'll be…leaving." She tried, but she couldn't quite muster up the courage to admit to her practical, no-nonsense aunt how terrifying that idea really was, now that it had materialized into a reality.

Surprisingly, Chloris didn't flinch. Instead, she took both Thea's hands in her own callused, scarred ones. It was a surprisingly gentle gesture from a woman who was not particularly affectionate.

"You know, I remember when your mother and I got our letters," Chloris said softly. Thea felt her eyes widen, but didn't dare to speak. Aunt Chloris very rarely spoke about her older sister. Thea was afraid that if she spoke, if she so much as breathed, this moment would shatter. Chloris continued. "Chloe was ever so excited; she couldn't wait to get out. You know your Gran and Granda. Always had the most interesting of homes, with the most interesting of witches and wizards traipsing about. Your mum, she couldn't wait to be all grown up. Wanted to start charming everything in sight, I expect." Here, she paused, chuckling. "Chloe was excited. I wasn't. I _liked_ home. My garden was there, everything I had worked on and nurtured…" Chloris met her niece's wide silvery eyes steadily. "I'm a fair witch, Amalthea. But I've always believed that real magic is something you can feel with your fingertips. Raising something, helping it to grow, _that's_ magic. No sparks, no bangs or great clouds of smoke. You've grown up around my kind of magic. There's no shame in finding that stability difficult and frightening to leave." Very slowly, she brushed back a lock of Thea's hair. Thea gave her aunt a watery smile. Trust Aunt Chloris to see straight to the heart of the matter.

Patting her knee, Chloris stood up briskly. "Now then, we've loads to do. I reckon we're about as caught up as we can be, but we still need to give everyone a going over before we head down to Diagon Alley. And I suppose we can stop down at Ross-on-Wye afterwards, pick up something special for dinner. Come on, girl. I need you to go take a look in on the Jobberknolls after you post those letters, and then help me pack up a thing or two. I need to send off some of our wares at the Apothecary anyway."


	3. Diagon Alley

To quote Sokka of A:TLA fame... SHOPPING! Of course, with a slightly testy aunt, its not about to be smooth sailing. Keep your eyes peeled; I love to throw in random hints (some with all the subtlety of a bludger) for things to come. Again, reviews and comments are always a huge help and make it more fun to write.

I own none of JKR's characters. Happy Reading!

**Chapter Three: Diagon Alley**

It was nearly ten o'clock by the time they had packed up the various plants and Herbology supplies Aunt Chloris regularly sold to the Apothecary's. With a twitch of her wand, Chloris vanished the lot, an invoice enclosed with the top parcel.

"Mr. Higgins ought to have our payment ready by the time we arrive," she said knowingly, stepping up to the large, open fire pit at the center of the room. Taking a pinch of powder from a small jar, she gestured to Thea.

"Do try to get out at the proper grate this time. I don't want to have to go hunting for you," Chloris said, throwing her powder into the flames, which reared well above her own five feet eight inches.

"Diagon Alley!" she said firmly, and Thea watched as her Aunt spun and Vanished on the spot. She made to pinch the powder, when a thump at the window made her pause.

There, ever as always, was Thaddeus. Thea hurried over, opening the window.

"Tad, I don't have much time, Auntie and I have to run to Diagon Alley. I got into Hogwarts, and I'd love to talk about, oh, loads of things, but I've got to get going. We should be back later this afternoon, alright?"

The Thestral shuffled, agitated, but Thea didn't have time to calm him. "I'll hurry her along as much as I can," she promised earnestly. She gave him an awkward hug around the neck, and then closed the window, snatched her powder from the jar, and said clearly, "Diagon Alley!"

* * *

It was a terribly uncomfortable sensation, traveling by the Floo Network. Thea was distinctly aware that she had somehow managed to get soot up her nose, and was sneezing violently when she tumbled out of the grate, eyes streaming. Strong hands swooped down, lifting her up and dusting her down efficiently.

"There you are, I was just about to go back after you. What on earth kept you," her aunt asked, passing her a handkerchief to wipe her face.

"Thaddeus. I think we'd best hurry, Aunt Choris. He didn't seem too happy with our leaving," Thea sputtered, trying to rid herself of the ashy taste that now coated her mouth.

"I will not be hurried by some spectral horse turned nursemaid," Chloris said flatly, and with that, they were off.

Thea had been to Diagon Alley before, both with her Aunt and with her grandparents. However, this particular trip was far more interesting, in large part because they were shopping for her.

However, shopping with Aunt Chloris proved to be more of a trial than a treasured experience. Her Aunt did not hide her disdain for the Apothecary's Potion Starter Kit, saying, "Hmph! Two Galleons for the lot? Are they mad? We can grow most of it, no sense paying for this dried out rubbish!" She was equally dismissive at Madam Malkin's, (Tsk, just look at the stitching on these Dragon-skin gloves!), and was positively rude at the Magical Menagerie (They day I let you buy an undersized, over bred Owl is the day I snap my own wand and earn my living as a Veterinarian!).

There were a few high points, though. She was helpful when buying Thea's Cauldron. She was equally knowledgeable at Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, saying, "It's a bit more expense up front, my dear, but Crystal, that's the way to go. Easier to clean, and less prone to nasty surprises down the road."

However, the fact could not be ignored that by half past one, Aunt Chloris had _not_ bought more than she _had_. In some cases, Thea wasn't too surprised. The lavender at the Apothecary's had looked distinctly wilted, and she was sure (she thought with no small amount of pride) that the herb garden she had grown back home had superior Wolf's Bane at least. Still, she did hope her Aunt came around on a few things. She for one did not look forward to Herbology class without gloves, and her pair at home was distinctly worn.

Feeling rather grumpy, Thea didn't notice where they were headed next until her Aunt cleared her throat loudly. Looking up, she felt her sullen attitude melt away.

In front of them, under a peeked roof, stood a small, dusty looking shop. Faded golden letters on the sign were peeling into obscurity, but they were still legible. The words made Thea's heart leap straight to her throat.

OLLIVANDERS

MAKERS OF FINE WANDS SINCE 382 B.C.

Heedless of the packages she carried, Thea pressed so close to the glass the her breath misted over, looking intently at a single wand on a rich velvet cushion.

_A wand_, she thought, giddy and frightened all at once. A real wand, marking her as a real witch!

Chloris cleared her throat again, watching her niece with distinct amusement. "I believe it helps if we go in the shop, my dear," she said, not quite hiding the smile in her voice.

They opened the door, and the tiny bell jingled, sounding oddly muffled. The air inside seemed strangely close, heavy with dust and something strange Thea couldn't place.

Chloris gave her a swift pat on the shoulder. "Right, you should be set for a while. I just have to run out to pick up a few things. Be polite. Mr. Ollivander can be… interesting."

And with a quick wave, Chloris was out the door and heading down the cobblestone street, Thea gaping at her back.

* * *

"Aaah, Amalthea Quinn! I was wondering whether you would drop by," a breathy voice murmured behind her. Swallowing a squeak of fright, Thea whirled around.

An extremely elderly man stood scant inches away, his large, pale eyes almost glowing in the low light of the shop. Pale skin was traced by light blue veins, wrinkles almost obscuring his expression altogether. He wore a coat of rich brocade, sleeves fluttering elegantly at his side.

The man did not seem at all perturbed by her discomfort. "I," he said, in that airy, trembling voice, "am Garrick Ollivander, proprietor and wand maker," he bowed, his whole form wobbling so much that Thea reached out to catch him. Swiftly, he clasped her hands, turning them over in his gnarled, knobby fingers.

"Hm yes, young hands, strong hands, both suited to spell work. Naturally, given your Grandfather's background. Perhaps the right, yes, this is your wand arm. Now, let's see if we can't find something to suit."

At this a long tape measure began to flit about, a StenoQuill recording the results while Ollivander moved back into the shadows.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Quinn. Your parents were particularly entertaining to fit. I remember your mother. Walnut and unicorn hair, nine and three quarter inches, rather whippy. Very neat spell work," Ollivander called, his voice drifting from the back of the store. "Your father was a marvelously adept wizard, rather jovial. He was chosen by a cedar, dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches. A very good match, very well suited as I recall."

He reappeared with several long, thin boxes, his wide eyes glancing down at the list. Thea, who had not really be attending, noticed the tape measure was now trying to get at her earlobe.

"Yes, yes, that will do," he said impatiently, flapping his hand at the string. "Your grandmother I recall as being a rather forceful personality, even at eleven. Applewood, and unicron hair, steadfast," the old man murmured, his fingers trailing down the list. "And of course, your Grandfather never needed a wand." At this, Thea felt her ears warm, but gamely met his eyes. But there was no judgment in the eerie, orb like gaze of Garrick Ollivander, only calculating appraisal.

"Here, chestnut and unicorn hair, nine inches, nice and springy. Give it wave," he said abruptly. Thea nodded dumbly, and raised the wand, only to find it snatched away.

"No, of course not, let's see… perhaps alder, dragon heartstring, straight and true," he offered, only to seize that one back as well. "Blackthorn and phoenix feather, firm," he said, only to grab it away a moment later. Thea was beginning to feel thoroughly cowed as a pile of discarded wands began to build up steadily at his side. After yet another attempt (Hazel, Unicorn hair, yielding), Ollivander stepped back, shaking his head

"How strange, very strange," he murmured, running his finger over his bottom lip, lost in thought.

Thea, opening her mouth for perhaps the first time since entering the store, piped up. "Sorry, sir? What's strange?"

Ollivander turned his lamp like gaze towards her, and paused. Thea was about to ask again when he spoke. "Perhaps we ought to try this another way. Follow me, Miss Quinn."

* * *

Thea followed, curiosity overriding trepidation as she tailed Ollivander through the narrow, twisting corridors of shelves. He opened a door, flicked his wand at a lamp, and slowly, light spilled on to a wide, open space.

Thea, who was used to her Aunt Chloris' pristine office, was taken aback by the workshop before her. All sorts of whirring, spinning, and smoke emitting devices sat on stands, shelves, and hung from ceilings. At the center was a large table, covered in wood shavings.

Ollivander began placing blocks of wood on the table, beckoning her closer. "Examine them," he instructed, watching closely as her fingertips traced the grain in the wood. "So very odd," he murmured, as Thea worked her way about the table. Seeing her inquiring glance, he continued. "I look for the affinities between wands and wizards, my dear. Ebony, alder, ash, they like you…spruce, too, and spruce likes few people. It is strange that so many different types of wand quality woods prefer your touch, while the cores continue to reject you as a suitable match."

"Oh," she said, disheartened. She hadn't ever heard of a witch being unsuitable to wand cores. She ran her finger over a block of ebony, and eased, feeling it warm under her skin. "The trees, though, they make sense. I take care of these types trees at home," she said, smiling. She blinked, remembering. "Oh, Mr. Ollivander, my Aunt Chloris, she said I ought to show you this. She said it was a gift," Thea said, reaching into her bag to pull out the heavy yew branch.

Ollivander's peculiar eyes widened as he grasped the branch. "Oh my, oh my oh my," he murmured, inspecting the branch from all angles. "How very peculiar, how very… interesting," he said, voice dipping ever softer.

"A yew, but so different, yes, very different. And it has known magic, very early in its life," the wand maker whispered, eyes closed as his fingers mapped the bark and grain. Thea felt her hand seized again in Ollivander's gnarled, surprisingly strong grip. "Your magic, I believe?" he asked, eyes roving up her forearm.

She nodded, blushing. "It was a tree from home, and there was a storm…" she rushed to explain, not at all sure what she should say.

"Ah yes, that would account for it," the old man breathed, and eased his hand off her wrist. He set the branch on the center of his worktable, and peered at it again, considering. "You've changed this tree, you know. It's still retains those qualities innate to its species, and yet…It is oddly attuned to you, no doubt because your magic was so crucial to its survival. I trust you thanked the tree for such a rare gift?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Thea felt her whole face flush. Scuffing her feet, she looked down. "Um…not really, there really wasn't a chance," she mumbled.

"So, you didn't thank an enormously powerful, slightly sentient wand tree for gifting you with the conduit of your power?" Ollivander's voice lost much of its airy quality. He sounded scandalized.

"The tree, what I mean to say is, the branch…" Thea closed her eyes, turned redder, if possible, and blurted, "the-branch-fell-on-my-head-and-I-was-unconscious-and-the-bowtruckle-ran-to-get-my-aunt-so-I-didn't-say-thank-you."

Ollivander blinked slowly. Thea heard a wheezy sound eminating from the wand maker. Alarmed, she moved forward, only to realize that he was laughing.

The wand maker brushed tears from his eyes. "A yew tree gives you a gift, and nearly kills you in the process," he chortled, "oh that is good! How ironic! Well yes, I can see how a proper expression of gratitude could have slipped you mind," he said, laughter subsiding. "But when you get home, you really ought to say thank you. Moon calf fertilizer is always appreciated by wand trees, you know."

Thea nodded, "Yes… yes, I'll do that," she replied not entirely sure of this strange old man.

Ollivander clapped his veined hands together, the sound uncomfortably loud in the weighty, dusty air of the shop. "Well then, with a wood matched, the core is all that eludes us! Come my dear, let us take another look-"

A sharp crash by the back wall made them both freeze. Ollivander pulled out his wand, motioning for her to back away from the small, far door. With surprisingly agility, he moved towards the alley entrance, wand leveled. A quick twitch blasted the door back, and he lunged into the darkness. A shriek met him, and, steeling herself, Thea bounded after, heedless of the danger.


	4. Of Hair & Yew

Character sighting off the port bow! See if you can catch it. We are drawing close to that point where the story shifts from the whole bucolic home life mode to Hogwarts let's cause a rumpus mode. Thanks for sticking with it; I've enjoyed the of the messages I've received thus far :) :)

Regarding JKR... what's mine is mine, and what's her's I can only wish was mine :)

**Chapter Four: Of Hair & Yew**

As her eyes adjusted to the pale wash of sunlight in the alley, Thea found herselft in the strangest of scenes. Mr. Ollivander was attempting to keep a black shape at bay. The creature, upon seeing Thea, became all the more frantic to get around him. The two were shuffling about in the mess beside the dumpster, obviously unsure of what to do.

Rubbing her eyes furiously, Thea blinked the sun out of them. There, covered in what looked like the better part of a week's compost heap, was Thaddeus. Nearly beside himself, he had plainly followed her to Diagon Alley, and had panicked at the sight of the old wizard valiantly trying to shoo him away without serious hurt.

Thea rushed forward, pushed Ollivander's hand away, and let the Thestral rush her. Thaddeus began to go through her hair, pockets, and clothing frenziedly, clearly almost hysterical after her abrupt disappearance.

Ollivander watched the scene, for the first time his expression truly open, mouth agape. Thea tried her best to explain as Thaddeus continued his overzealous examination.

"Sorry mph – Mr. Ollivander, this is Thaddeus, I raised him from a foal, he's – ooph – never been good with distance, and after the accident he's been a bit – Tad, gerrof my foot! – he's been prone to this sort of thing." The Thestral, finally settled, began to pick through the garbage at their feet, though he kept himself firmly planted against her hip.

"You… raised…a Thestral?" Ollivander asked faintly, hand over his chest. He had been exceptionally alarmed to see the creature behind his shop. The sight of it nibbling the shirt collar of his latest client was nothing short of mind-boggling.

"He was a breech birth, his dam died, and it warped his back leg. Professor Hagrid was doing some sort of work for the Ministry that summer, so they brought him to my Aunt," she said, rubbing small circles behind the creature's ears. "I had only been there about a year, but," she swallowed, and continued, "he looked so lost, and I knew how he felt, so I decided to take care of him."

"I-I see," the wank maker said weakly, collecting himself. "So you and this…?"

"Thaddeus," she supplied, pushing his mouth out of her pocket yet again as he searched for a treat.

"Thaddeus," he nodded, "are quite attached?" Seeing her nod, he sighed. "And I take it he won't be content to just eat my garbage while we continue in doors."

Thea blushed. "'m sorry, but he's really skittish right now. If I left him, he'd probably just try to break down the door."

"Young Thaddeus is particularly devoted, it seems," Ollivander said dryly. Drawing himself up, he nodded. "Very well. Assuming the creature is house broken, he may observe." Seeing the girl blink, he smiled. "My dear, when you have been nearly trampled to death by a unicorn in pursuit of the perfect wand core, you tend to get over these things quickly. Now, let us go inside, away from any prying eyes."

* * *

Indoors, Thaddeus was on his best behavior, relegated to a far corner. Ollivander turned Thea's attention back to the subject of cores. "Perhaps we ought to attempt with the phoenix feather," he was saying after yet another round of failed matchings when Thaddeus made a very rude noise.

The thestral wandered over and presented his rump to the wand maker. Ollivander looked stunned. Thea, about to blister the creature for his rude behavior, was surprised when the old man cut her off.

"It is an idea," he muttered, gazing at Thea with that same peculiar intensity he had at the beginning of their meeting.

"Sorry Mr. Ollivander, what's an idea?" Thea asked, distracted from her rant about Proper Manners and Young Thestrals Who Didn't Respect Their Elders.

Ollivander leaned in very, very close, so close Thea could see the veins in his wide, luminous eyes. "Tell me, Miss Quinn, are you who you present yourself to be?"

"I don't understand," she stuttered, trying to back up, only to bump in to the thestral.

"I once sold a very peculiar wand, Miss Quinn. It went on to do terrible things. I wonder, if I offer to make such a wand for you, if you can be trusted. Trusted with such an anomaly," he murmured, watching her closely. Thea had no idea what he was getting at when he continued, "Though obviously I have no choice. Phoenix finds you too grounded, dragon heartstring is too bombastic for your sensibilities, and frankly you would burn out a unicorn hair in a decade. So I suppose this… irregular solution is all that is left." With that, Ollivander began to sift through Thaddeus's tail, humming to himself. Finding one, he pulled sharply, and, ignoring the squawk from the thestral, turned to his worktable. He began to take notes, in some strange shorthand that Thea didn't understand. They certainly looked nothing like the runes her Aunt used.

After some time, he looked up, blinking owlishly at the girl. "Ah. Quite. Let me show you to the front. Young Thaddeus, if you are content to wait till nightfall, you may fly home then." The thestral blew softly in Thea's face, and then settled down for a nap. Ollivander began to escort her to the front of the shop. "I will send you your wand within a week or so. The invoice will be enclosed," he was saying as they entered the front room. Chloris was sitting on the spindly chair, reading the day's edition of _The Daily Prophet_.

"Garrick, lovely to see you," she said warmly. Ollivander nodded, moving forward to bow creakily over her hand.

"Chloris Stewart. Enligsh Oak and a phoenix feather, sturdy. Still in working order, I trust?" He asked, righting himself slowly.

"Naturally," she replied, glancing over at Thea. "Everything all set? Shall we go, dear? The grate's going to be terribly crowded if we wait much longer…" Chloris said hurriedly, stowing her newspaper as she beckoned her niece.

"A moment, Chloris.," Ollivander said, cutting her off. "We have some business to discuss. I trust young Amalthea can entertain herself people watching just outside…?"

Thea took the hint. Mumbling something about wanting fresh air, she opened the door, relieved to be out of the stuffy shop.

The moment the girl's heels passed the threshold, Mr. Ollivander turned to her aunt, looking very serious indeed.

Chloris narrowed her eyes. "What business, Garrick? You know full well you are welcome to visit our trees whenever you like. What else could you possibly-"

"It is with regard to your niece's wand," he said crisply, eyes intent. "You knew she would be a match for the yew."

Chloris didn't flinch. "She had the bloody thing dropped on her head. I'm no expert, but I've never been slow to cotton on. My trees are in top condition. They don't go dropping beams unless they have a mind to, or someone asks politely!" she retorted stormily.

Ollivander dismissed her heat with a wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, that's all obvious. And there is her history. But this yew will be _different_, you see. It has known her magic since its infancy. It will be unpredictable. All wands choose their wizards, but this one has willingly bound itself as her protector. Most firmly at that."

Chloris was superbly disdainful. "The core balances the wood, or have I been missing something in our correspondence, Garrick? A proper core will keep her out of trouble-"

"And that is precisely the problem, young Stewart!" Ollivander snapped. "You knew I would have to make this wand on commission. It is reasonable; I have done so before on other unusual occasions. But the core is without precedent! It is only due to the preternatural connection both elements have to the child that I will proceed!"

Chloris raised her eyebrows, skepticism heavy in her voice as she asked, "And what could be unprecedented for an Ollivander?"

* * *

Outside, oblivious to the heated conversation in the shop, Thea kicked her heels against the bench, idly tracing pictures on the arm rest. She could hear all sorts of conversations as people passed her by, most seeming to be doing their own school shopping.

"-an' I told 'er, I wouldna pay so much as a Knut fer ten horns in tha' condition-" she caught as two exceptionally hairy wizards strolled by, plainly griping about rising prices at the Apothecary.

Down the lane, a girl applied mightily to her mother regarding dress robes. "Oh Mummy, Mum-my, can we please stop at Madam Malkins? I need the new, spangled dress robes, not the old dreary ones from last year!"

Around the corner, she heard a scuffle, and saw two boys racing off, the smaller one flinging himself around the taller one's legs. "-ames, give it back! Give it back right now or I'll tell Uncle George and Mum you were sneaking Skiving Snackboxes out of the shop!"

"Oh you're such a ninny, Al. Here it is, and besides, Uncle George knew I was taking them, he winked at me!" The two boys then rounded the bend, and were out of sight.

She had been so caught up in watching the two boys that she had failed to notice her aunt's return.

"Come on, Thea, no sense lollygagging about," Aunt Chloris said waspishly, plainly not in the best of moods. She was already striding towards the grate at the end of the lane, Vanishing their packages with an angry twitch of her wand.

Thea scrambled out of the bench and trotted after. Once she drew level, she asked, "What did Mr. Ollivander want?"

"Mr. Ollivander, as per usual, wanted to stick his nose in other people's business," her aunt snapped, two flags of color high on her cheeks. "As if I don't know how to look after a witch in training," she muttered viciously.

This didn't quite tally with Thea's own impression, however. Mr. Ollivander had been very cordial. Though undoubtedly a bit odd, he was not at all insensitive or prying. And Aunt Chloris herself always spoke highly of the man.

"Aunt Chloris, did he have anything to say about my wand?" she asked doggedly. She could feel the beginnings of a stitch in her side as her aunt picked up the pace.

"Huh! I should say so! And rather too much, I think!" Chloris growled, bustling through the other shoppers with little concern. "Now enough, we'll talk once we're home. Come on then, here's the grate, in you go!"

Thea found herself hustled over to the giant hearth, and unceremoniously dumped into the green flames. She managed to shout, "Chloris' Forms!" only to start coughing as ash again flew up her nose.


	5. A Midnight Caller

I hope you are enjoying it thus far! Please bear with me, we are ALMOST to the fun part. One more chapter to go, and then we're goin' back to Hogwarts. Reviews are always welcomed. Thanks again!

Again, I do not own any HP characters!

**Chapter Five: A Midnight Caller**

Immediately after appearing in a rush of green flame, Chloris stalked across the living area and into her private office, slamming the door behind her. Thea, well aware that she had missed her chance to wheedle information from her aunt, knew better than to disturb her.

Instead she went about packing her new purchases in a surprisingly handsome trunk they had found on the cheap at the Junk Shop. Its previous owner had plainly enchanted it with some charm or another, as the trunk opened to one of four compartments. This ingenuity was lost on Thea, as she instead heaped her things inside it, hurrying back to the kitchen to begin making dinner.

Though the smells wafting under the door did eventually lure Chloris out of the workroom, they could do nothing dispel the dreariness that settled over the ranch. Thea, having long since acquired both a healthy respect for and sense of self-preservation, made a concerted effort to give any room the increasingly cantankerous Chloris inhabited as wide a berth as possible.

Despite the best intentions, Thea could not quite hide her excitement at the arrival of her wand a week later. On that Thursday, set in motion by an exceptionally magnificent sunrise over the valley, summer blazed in all its glory. Thea was quite unable to contain herself, half giddy from sunlight.

An owl arrived just after their morning tea, bearing a long thin box for Thea and a rather hefty roll of parchment for Aunt Chloris. Her aunt snatched the letter away, disappearing into her workroom before Thea could protest. Left alone, she contemplated the parcel in front of her. Finally, plucking up her nerve, she tore into it.

The wand itself was a lovely, creamy fawn colored thing. Below, she saw a small, tightly rolled bit of parchment. Curiously, she opened it.

_Miss Quinn,_

_I do beg your indulgence for the tardiness of this package. The has been quite busy over the past few days, as I'm sure you can appreciate._

_Enclosed you will see your completed wand. Its specifications are thus: yew, ten and two third inches, with young Thaddeus' donation within. As you will note, it is firm but pliable. I believe you will find its spellwork to be of astonishing precision. _

_However, I do feel it is my duty to impress upon you the abnormality of the situation. Your wand was made only due to the strong magical bond already forged with both wood and core. Anything less than such unusual connections, and I would have sold you a lesser wand._

_Yes, I do say lesser. This wand, though not the most powerful I have ever made, is still perhaps the most unique. I must warn you that this wand, so intimately tied to you, should not be used frivolously as most young witches and wizards are prone to do. Under no circumstances should you test it against another living creature until you have mastered the basic magical disciplines. I implore you to heed my counsel, as I fear what your wand would do under threat. Both elements have mystical ties to the concept of death; to tempt these qualities would be most unwise._

_That said, I do trust you will find everything in working order. With a poised but wary hand, I suspect you and this wand will achieve wondrous things._

_Your Servant,_

_Garrick Ollivander_

Thea carefully rolled the letter, and tucked it in her pocket, thinking. She examined her wand, running her fingers over it. She felt a warm, swooping sensation in her chest, like a hug from a long missed relative. She was tempted to wave it about, as she had done with the others in Ollivander's shop. The letter still clear in her mind, however, she decided to pack the wand away, just to be on the safe side. The message had seemed almost ominous, and she didn't quite trust herself not to cause some lasting damage to the stables.

Thea initially worried that the letter might send Chloris spiraling back in to her bad tempered. She needn't have bothered. Something had clearly mollified Chloris, and after a few days it seemed Ollivander was once again in her aunt's good graces. Still, Thea didn't quite trust the amity enough to mention her own letter from the wand maker, or its rather foreboding tone.

* * *

Not that Thea was paying much attention to her aunt's moods. She spent most of her time examining her school things, reading through her books, and sorting through her belongings several times over. As July creeped into August, Thea became more and more eager, ticking off the days till 1 September.

Perhaps just to spite her, life at the stables seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Thea's chore list shrank to the shortest it had ever been, and even Aunt Chloris admitted there was little to do about the place.

Thea didn't really mind. It was a golden time, with hours spent talking with her aunt late in to the night about Hogwarts as she remembered. She read in the grove, spent time with her Muggle friends from the village, and took many long walks with Thaddeus. It came as a shock when she looked at the calendar, expecting to see another row of blank days, and instead found 1 September circled in her aunt's bold hand.

Chloris took most of the day getting the household affairs in order. Thea spent her time with Thaddeus, miserably aware that she would not see him again till Christmas. The thestral himself was despondent, never straying far from her shadow. They passed the day out in the pasture, Thea resting against him as she talked about anything that came to mind.

Dinner was a small, quiet affair. Chloris retired early, stating she still had work to do. Rather disheartened, Thea climbed her ladder, being sure to leave the loft doors open should Thaddeus want to visit during the night. She cast about for something to do for nearly an hour, finally submitting to boredom and deciding on sleep. This plan proved better in practice, however. Thea found her self staring at the beams of her ceiling, watching shadows deepen and spread as true night fell.

* * *

It seemed she had finally drifted off when a large crack split the silence. Thea sat bolt upright, casting about in the gloom for a light. Something nearby creaked, seesawing back and forth. On the far side of the bed, Thaddeus stirred, pale eyes open and alert.

Long gentle fingers caught her hand, halting her panicked search. Relaxing, she eased the covers back, feeling a little weepy. "Hello Grandad," she whispered, slipping to the floor. "'S alright Tad, go back to sleep." The thestral needed no further urging.

"My dear Amalthea," said a soft, warm voice. It was oddly high pitched, but happy all the same. A soft glow collected next to her bed, and Thea caught sight of two large, bat-like ears. A moment later, her visitor swam into view.

Even among house elves, Telleus Stewart was odd looking. Dressed in a vibrant orange robe, he was entirely bald but for a single tuft of white hair that stood hovered, cloudlike, about his crown. Though tall for his family, he only stood as high as his granddaughter's upper arm. His large ears were constantly twitching in all directions, making sure he didn't wake his daughter in the other wing. He looked oddly reminiscent of a pointy nosed Shar-Pei, wrinkles folding in over his face and neck. Large, bright grey eyes watched the girl affectionately as he moved in to wrap his spindly arms about her.

"What are you doing here?" Thea whispered, looking at her bedside clock. It was well after midnight, rather late for a social call.

"Your grandmother got back late from the Ministry this evening. We had planned on visiting at some point before you left for school, but things have been touch and go in Belarus lately," he said slowly, taking care to use the "proper Wizard speakings" it had taken him years to learn.

"Is Gran alright?" she asked hurriedly, concerned. Her grandparents almost never talked about work unless something was wrong. Her grandmother was normally unflappable; for her to be working all hours was troubling.

"Of course she is," Telleus said calmly. "You know your grandmother. She lives for moments like this. Says it keeps her young."

"So why-" Thea began, only to be cut off as her grandfather continued.

"Anyhow, we had meant to visit, and so here I am. I hope I didn't wake you," he said, eyes twinkling. Thea felt her ears redden.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "Was rolling around for hours, but it just wouldn't come."

"No, I don't suppose it did," he murmured kindly, patting her hand. "Only natural, dear. Your first cousin thrice removed, Dorthea, starts there tomorrow as well. She's just as worried. Quite reasonable for you both to be a touch nervous. It's a big day for you tomorrow. Which reminds me…" he trailed off, patting his pockets. Seemingly out of nowhere he pulled a large, brightly wrapped package. She recognized it as his work; only her grandfather would've thought to find metallic daisy paper. "Go on, then. Open it!" he urged, smiling toothily.

Thea tried to tear the paper as quietly as possible, but she was sure someone had heard. Carefully, she wrapped the package. It contained a pair of gloves, dark brown and oddly indistinct. They certainly didn't have the flair of the green dragon hide pairs that had been advertised in Diagon Alley.

"Chloris mentioned in her last letter that your own pair had almost worn through. We decided to give you something a bit more versatile this go around. Young wand carriers can get into such trouble," he squeaked, grinning mischeviously.

"Thanks Grandad," she said, still turning the gloves over in her hands. "But…what are they? I know they're not Welsh Green, or Swedish Shortsnout. I can't place 'em."

"They are not dragon, Amalthea. These are Graphorn hide gloves. Less showy, but with infinitely more possibilities," Telleus said merrily, rocking back and forth on his heels. Thea looked at the gloves, eyes wide. She opened her mouth, but the former house elf waved her away.

"But there, the gift has been given. So why don't you settle yourself and tell your old Grandad what's on your mind," he peeped, hoisting himself up onto her bed.

Thea stretched out, feeling Telleus draw the blanket up to her chin with one hand while clasping hers with the other. She suddenly felt very warm, very tired, and very safe. Yawning, she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"I j-just don't like not knowing where I'll be p-placed," she murmured drowsily. Long fingers stroke her brow, her eyelids fluttering in response.

"And why is that?" he asked, voice quieting.

"I don't want to be place wrong," she mumbled, eyes closing at last.

"As long as you are somewhere you can grow, all will be well, dearest," the warm voice say, dimly aware of lips pressing to her forehead before falling into nothingness.

Telleus Stewart watched his only grandchild, her scowl easing into deep sleep. Sighing, he hopped down from the bed, meandering over to the far bookcase. Sharp pricks stung his eyes as he saw his first-born smile gaily, waving furiously at him. He waved a hand, beckoning both picture and phial to him. With loving care, he stowed them carefully in Thea's trunk.

And then he was gone, his granddaughter sleeping soundly at last, quite unaware of what was to come.


	6. Moats, Boats, and Locomotives

Welcome back! Tonight, we have finally made it to the Hogwarts Express! I'm curious to see how many known characters you've caught (and do catch here!) They're some of the classics.

As always, I do not own Harry Potter.

**Chapter Six: Moats, Boats, and Locomot-ives**

Thea was having a lovely dream when something crashed into her room the next morning. Heart pounding in her ears, she found Chloris standing above her, barging about the room in what she apparently thought was high good humor. Flicking her wand at the packed trunk, she smiled down at her dozy niece.

"Good morning, dear," she caroled, swooping down and giving her a one-armed hug. "I've got breakfast all set downstairs. Once your finished, we can take a walk around the grounds and then take the grate to Charing Cross. Up you get!" Thea flinched when Chloris threw the window open, letting in a wet gust of air. "Beautiful morning," she breathed, eyes alight.

Thea, now thoroughly alarmed, only nodded. She didn't know what had happened to her aunt in the past six hours, but she was sure she didn't like it.

* * *

Downstairs, the experience became more surreal. Chloris had dressed the whole living area with violet and gold streamers, and a sign flashing, "GOOD LUCK THEA!" hung above the kitchen.

All of Thea's favorite breakfast foods were heaped on the table; raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, scrambled eggs, sausages, diced potatoes, and four different types of melon. Chloris, who had never been much of a cook, had plainly spent a lot of time in preparing it all until it was just right. And where she usually sat, Thea saw a very odd substitute for a plate: books. In fact, they looked remarkably like the books that she had positive she had packed no less than fourteen times over the past few weeks.

As she stepped forward, Chloris began to speak. "I've never been much good at fancy dinners, so I thought we'd do breakfast instead. I'm much better in the mornings anyhow. And last night I got to thinking, I ought to take a look at your school books. It's lucky I did, let me tell you. Phyllida Spore is brilliant of course, but I've found a surprising number of errors over the years and you've got to have the right information in the Hogwarts greenhouses, they can be quite dangerous!" She continued rattling on as Thea opened her new copy of _1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi_. And, sure enough, in Chloris' own strong hand, notes from a lifetime of study had been placed in the margins, all cataloged in the back. Every book was the same, with helpful hints, short cuts, and cross references up and down every margin.

A large knot formed in Thea's throat. Aunt Chloris had plainly spent most of the night making sure her niece would go off well prepared. Any time she was home sick, she'd only have to look at a page to feel Chloris at her back.

Her aunt watched, a flickered of anxiety passing through her eyes. "I just thought…it'd make it…I wanted you to feel at home, while your there," she said lamely. "If you'd rather not, we can always use magic to wipe them clean, it's quite a simple spell, actually, here-"

Thea launched herself at her aunt before she could move to touch her wand, hugging her as tight as possible. "It's grand, Auntie," she squeaked, the lump making it hard to talk. "The best present I could've possible asked for," Thea added.

Chloris flushed to her roots, looking pleased. She hugged Thea back firmly, and then loosened her hold. Thea, knowing her aunt was not a demonstrative woman, did the same.

"Well. Breakfast. Right," she said shortly, not quite able to hide her pleasure.

* * *

Several hours later, Thea found herself wading through the thick steam emitting from a cherry red engine. The platform was terribly crowded, with parents hugging children, children greeting friends, with trunks and cages piled on any spare bit of concrete.

Chloris held Thea's hand in a vice grip, plainly convinced that if she let go, her niece would be carried away by the wave of wizards around them. For they all were wizards. Some had dressed more or less incognito, but many were in robes, having traveled by the recently installed Floo powder grate near the entrance.

Nearby, Thea heard a man yattering on about broom regulation. Her aunt rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "Once a prat, always a prat."

Thea giggled, and then straightened when her aunt stopped abruptly, turning to face her. Her eyes looked oddly glassy, though it might have been a trick of the light.

"Alright Amalthea, it's time to get on the train," Chloris said, her voice hard. "Make sure you change before you get to Hogsmeade, Professor Hagrid won't wait for you. You'll have better luck finding a compartment at the back of the train. Don't go mouthing off to prefects, they'll be wearing a badge. And in Herbology, be sure to be polite to Professor Longbottom. We sell him a lot of seedlings, but he's never been one to play favorites, so don't even try. And-"

"Auntie," Thea murmured, shocked to her toes. "You're _crying_." She was half tempted to reach up, just to see if they were real, but common sense held her back.

Chloris managed a very wet snort. "Well of course I'm crying, you silly girl! You get dropped on my doorstep at the age of six right after C-Chloe… and Deuc… and you've been with me ever since…" she paused, blowing her nose smartly. She began walking her over to the door, helping her up. "Of course its upsetting. Anyway, get on the train. Remember, you can always send an owl, you should recognize several of them. And be sure to stop by the kitchens today, to say hello to your cousin!" She finished the last at a yell, jogging alongside the now moving train to keep hold of Thea's hand. "I love you!" Chloris called, waving as the train pulled away. Thea blew a kiss, waved back, and then ducked inside.

A rather bushy haired woman walked up beside Chloris, offering her a fresh handkerchief. "Your first?" she asked kindly.

Chloris nodded. The woman patted her on the shoulder. "It doesn't get easier, you know. But one does grow accustomed."

* * *

Thea followed her aunt's advice, and was able to find an empty compartment. Settling herself down, she pulled a ragged copy of _The Complete Sherlock Holmes_ out of her knapsack. She had managed to work her way to the spectral hound when the glass door slid open.

"Oh good, there's room," a girl said, promptly flouncing in. Her skin was a rich mahogany, black ringlets tumbling down to her shoulders. She did have a rather unfortunate, pug-like nose, the only thing reducing her to pretty from lovely.

A small group of girls trouped in after her, plainly content to follow behind in search of seating. One, a lovely little thing with dark caramel hair and creamy beige skin, sat directly across from Thea. Her strange golden eyes lit up at the novel in her hands. She seemed about to speak when the first girl leaned over to peer at it.

"Good heavens, what is that thing? It looks positively decomposed," she said loudly. A few of the others snickered. Thea bit the inside of her cheek and started counting to ten. She had only made it to six when the girl snatched it out of her hands.

"I don't recognize this at all. Must be something from a Muggle shop," she said archly. Thea decided counting had never been her strong suit.

"It's a book. Occassionally, people read them. You know, with words?" she said, entirely too helpful, as she snatched the book back. The girl looked shocked. "So you haven't heard of words either. How shocking. I heard Hogwarts girls were cultured. My mistake." She coolly licked her thumb and turned a page, for and intents and purposes ignoring the stunned girl across the compartment.

Thea had her reading interrupted yet again when a hand shoved its way under her nose, rumpling a few pages. Thea was struck by a sudden impulse to snap her book shut on the offending appendage, but again relegated herself to counting.

"Tricia Zabini. My parents both went through, obviously. Are you new to Hogwarts?" she asked, eyeing her slyly, a strange smile playing on her lips.

Thea marked her page, and closed the book, thinking. She had heard of people like this, and met a few at her Muggle grade school. Someone already looking to establish herself, get to the top of the pecking order. Thea hadn't missed the crack about Muggle artifacts, either. Still, she wasn't going to take the bait. An inch would be the same as a mile to this girl.

"Not really, no," she said calmly, thinking what would shut this girl up the quickest. Something that she would respect, at least for the train ride to school. After that, Thea fervently hoped she would be sorted into which ever House was farthest from this Tricia Zabini. "We've been selling our supplies to the school for ages, so I wouldn't say I'm new to it."

This seemed to do the trick. The girl leaned back, eyes clearly measuring Thea up and down. Sensing a brief lull, Thea took the chance to introduce herself to the other occupants of the cabin.

Two were obviously twins, named Barbra and Gisela Comfry. Both had stick straight blonde hair, perfectly round blue eyes, and plainly only one person's sense between them. The other, the small, quiet one, was Emerson Price. She didn't say anything beyond her name, but her eyes followed the novel longingly.

Tricia rejoined the conversation shortly thereafter, evidently only capable of taking a backseat for so long. For a long stretch of the afternoon, Thea was regaled with thoroughly useless tales of how Tricia had spent her years growing up spoiled by a very wealthy, very beautiful grandmother, a handsome, brilliant father, and a well-known witch of a mother. Thea thought it all sounded rather fake, so she returned to her book, deciding that if she wanted to hear fiction, she'd rather have it handled by a master.

* * *

Thea was hearing yet another variation of what specific gifts Tricia had received upon some major event or another when a knock on the door brought the one sided conversation to a stand still.

A girl opened the door. She was on the small side, seeming to swim in her robes. Her hair was a wild, copperish mass, giving the impression of a rather strange halo about her face. Bright blue eyes met them all squarely, searching for something. Sighing, she turned back.

"Sorry Al, he's not here. We'll have to head up to check again," she called. Turned back to the cabin, she said, "Sorry, just trying to find my cousin. He's made off half my trunk, you see. I could skin him alive…!" shaking her head, she smiled ruefully. "Anyway, sorry to have bothered you!"

"Good luck," Thea called. The nodded, waved, and disappeared. As soon as she was out of sight, Tricia sucked in a breath.

"Well, I don't want to seem bossy, but I wouldn't get too friendly with her if I were you," she said primly, swishing her hair so violently it hit Emerson in the face. Clearly unfazed, she continued in hushed, conspiratorial tones, "That was a Weasley. Apparently they've almost taken over all of Gryffindor. I think that was Rose. Her mum's supposed to be a right old harpy. My mother says when they were at school together, she was the most know it all girl to ever come to Hogwarts, and ugly to boot!" Seeing Thea's nonplussed expression, she continued. "Anyway, they're all supposed to be terribly close but not wildly clever. And, they're all such Muggle lovers you can hardly get any sense out of them. Apparently the Grandfather is mad, collects plugs and suchlike," she tittered.

Thea kept her mouth shut. She thought the girl – Rose – had seemed rather nice. But she wasn't about to say so while Zabini was in full spate. Seeing she had again been reduced to the level of furniture, she settled back against the seat, trying to fall asleep.

* * *

In no time at all, the train was pulling in to Hogsmeade station. Reflecting on the ride, Thea felt rather let down. She had been expecting something more life changing. Maybe to meet a new friend, or try some spells. At this point, she would've settled for anything, rather than have to listen to Tricia dicker behind her any longer. She had a solid headache brewing, and was not at all looking forward to anything loud or boisterous. What she really wanted was to be at home, maybe in the hay loft, reading.

Sighing, she looked about the platform. A booming voice shouted, "Firs' years, this way! Yer trunks an' things'll be taken care of. Firs' years, foller me!" The voice was coming from an oak tree of a man, with wild graying hair and snapping black eyes. Thea thought she recognized him. He was Professor Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures man her aunt had studied with. Hurrying to keep up, she followed the river of students trailing after the tall figure at the end of the platform. He shepherded them towards the lake, helping the less coordinated ones into the boats that awaited them.

Soon, they were a tiny fleet of lights, bobbing over the black velvet surface. Thea only looked down once. She saw something move directly under them. Clutching her wand inside her robes, she kept her eyes firmly on the ridge, which gave way in breathtaking fashion to the castle itself. She tried hard not to let her jaw drop, but it was a very near thing.

She was still struggling as they climbed the front steps and entered the Great Hall. Portraits waved to the new first years, some pointing, others giggling at the awe-struck look in their faces.

Professor Hagrid was standing before an enormous set of doors, talking to a lanky, moony faced wizard in rich red velvet robes. His hair had a long, rangy look to it, but he wore a pair of spectacles on a rather small nose.

"Here they are, Professor Longbottom. Firs' years fer your inspection," Hagrid said loudly. Professor Longbottom nodded, rubbing his hands together.

"Thank you Professor Hagrid. Looks like we're all in good shape. All right you lot, listen up!" he called, and silence fell. He walked back and forth along their line, chiving some people into order. "Right. We are about to enter the Welcome Feast. Tonight, you will be sorted into your houses. Your house will be your home away from home for as long as you study with us here at Hogwarts. You will eat together, sleep together, and compete for the honor of your house. While I'm sure the Headmistress will reiterate this, I want everyone to be absolutely clear on this: rule breaking will result in a loss of points, while exceptional student behavior will earn points. Please choose the latter; I'm rather full up with detentions at the moment. Any questions? Right, then here we go!"

Professor Longbottom brandished his wand, and the doors opened slowly. Sound washed over them as the first years filed in, eyes wide.


	7. A Most Unfortunate Monday

Welcome back to Chapter Seven!

We are finally at Hogwarts, and things are about to get interesting. You have already met or ran in to several characters you already know. Here we have the sorting and the first week. I will admit that the Sorting Hat song is not my greatest achievement. The rhyme format of certain types of poetry has never been my strong suit. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy :)

Again, I do not own any HP characters/ creations of JKR.

**Chapter Seven: The First Week**

Inside the Great Hall, Thea had the distinct impression of many voices coming to a halt. Four long tables were situated before a dais, where many adult witches and wizards were seated, all looking down at the incoming first years expectantly. Students were equally attentive, some craning their necks to get a better look. She felt remarkably like a show dog, and her she felt her ears heat up as they began to twitch nervously.

Professor Longbottom ushered them down the center of the Hall, until at last they formed a half circle about a rickety stool. A tatty old hat, rather crumpled and showing signs of ill-usage, waited there. Thea was quite sure she was not the only one who gasped with the thing began to twitch, alighted on thin air, and began to sing in a reedy, booming voice.

It was many years ago, you know

When I was freshly sewn

That a stunning idea did come to be

Through Wizards quite well known.

Hogwarts then was yet a dream,

Thought its halls were newly raised,

As it was given shape and form

By minds that still are praised.

So please don't fret or worry yet,

And certainly don't fear,

The Hogwarts Founders had a plan

To welcome students here.

A school they'd built, but a home they'd find

Deep within these halls,

For Hogwarts School was ever meant

To be so much more than walls.

So step on up, please don't be shy,

And we'll take a look inside

To see just where your strengths lie

And where you'd best reside.

You might find Ravenclaw

Is where you'll meet your match.

Those brilliant minds with bright ideas

Think the brains are a catch.

It could be in Gryffindor

That you'll make a home.

To them, brave souls with high ideals

Will always find their own.

Perhaps yet in Hufflepuff

You could be home there.

Those kind, wise, and gentle souls

Will always do their share.

Or still more Slytherin

You may settle your score,

There clever folk with brilliant schemes

Are welcomed through their doors.

My talents are great and vast,

We'll find where you'll be at.

So as I said, please don't fret,

For I'm the Sorting Hat!

To much applause, the hat sank back to the stool.

Professor Longbottom strode forward, a long parchment in hand. "I shall be calling you by name. You will take a seat on the stool and allow the Hat to sort you. Afterwards, you may join your new House after passing the Hat along to your next classmate. Please be respectful; this is a Hogwarts tradition, and your first act as a Hogwarts student." With a flourish, he unrolled the list and began to read.

Thea felt rather anxious as around her, students began to file towards the stool. It quickly became apparent that, as they were going alphabetically, she would have to wait a rather long time. She began to look about, trying sort her thoughts before it was her turn.

Where did she _want_ to go? She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, but she was well used to hearing her aunt lecture on the importance of a solid foundation with excellent preparation. Where would she be most prepared? Thea shuffled forward, dimly aware that Professor Longbottom had just called, "Goldstein, Arnold," which resulted in a shout of "Hufflepuff!" from the hat.

Perhaps Ravenclaw would be a good fit. They were supposed to smart. But aside from Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, Thea didn't think she'd get top marks in any class. Anyhow, Care of Magical Creatures wouldn't be an option for two years. Did she really want to be in house full of whiz kids for two years before she had a chance to shine? Aunt Chloris had been a Ravenclaw, and she always spoke coolly of her old house, saying they didn't always like to get their hands dirty. Still, she'd be tops in something, maybe two somethings in a few years.

What about Gryffindor, she considered. Brave with high ideals, that sounded good. And Gran had been placed there, and she loved it. But of course, Thea knew Gran had always been outspoken. As she heard the Hat place Hopkirk, Lawrence in Ravenclaw, she admitted that she had never felt particularly bold or dashing. She was however prone to letting her mouth run off with her. She wasn't sure that would be a good fit, in a house full of people so willing to shoot back. At least she'd hold her own, though. And it was a good bet no one would tear the mickey out of her there for having a house half granddad.

As Jordan, Donald was placed into Gryffindor, she turned her thoughts to Hufflepuff. She loved Herbology, which her aunt had said was a Hufflepuff specialty. Her dad had been there as well, which put paid to the idea that Hufflepuffs were a dowdy old lot. But she didn't know that she'd be challenged there. She wanted comfort, not being bored out of her skull.

And then there was Slytherin. She felt nothing against them persay, but she wasn't too keen on joining up with the last remnants of pureblood mania. She also had a sneaking suspicion that Tricia Zabini would end up there, which made that the last house she wanted to consider.

She heard a roar from the Gryffindor table as Potter, Albus, went to join their ranks and Price, Emerson slipped onto the stool. It was fast approaching her turn, they were only a few students in front of her now. What had her granddad said last night? Go someplace she could grow. That sounded like a good plan. She didn't want to be placed where she fit in perfectly. She wanted where she'd be best suited, where she would get the most out of education. She felt rather proud to have come to that realization on her almost own, and was sure her aunt would approve.

"Quinn, Amalthea!" Professor Longbottom called. Thea felt her knees quiver, and stubbornly ordered them to stop. It was just a silly old hat, no sense working herself up into a tizzy. She sat down, and jammed the thing over her eyes, concentrating.

The reedy voice whispered in her ear. "Hello, what's this? I haven't had a student so intent in a while now."

_Please, don't just shout out!,_ she thought. _I just want somewhere I can grow. Where I can be the best me. And… find a friend._

The voice returned. "An aware first year, how lovely. Well let's take a look. Oh, already trained I see, well that's not bad, not brilliant but still bright, and very grounded at that. There's an idealist streak in you, that's plain, a bit hot tempered. And you want to grow. That's interesting. Very interesting," it whispered. For several long moments, Thea was intensely aware that the Hat said nothing to her. She had the funny feeling it was looking at other students, its focus elsewhere. She was just about to pipe up, feeling rather ignored at her own sorting, when the Hat shouted, "Slytherin!"

* * *

She put the hat on the stool, feeling rather stunned. She hadn't truly considered Slytherin. As far as she knew, no one in her family had ever been in the house. She felt like she was sleep walking as she made her way over to the table.

A tall girl with curly brown hair and a shiny prefect badge waved her over, clapping her on the back and oozing enthusiasm. "Well done! Good year for Slytherin girls, we've already got three! I'm Heather Brennan, fifth year and the girl's prefect. Welcome!"

Thea felt herself thaw just a little. Heather seemed plainly excited as she motioned for Thea to sit right next to her. She leaned in, talking eagerly. "So plus the twins and Price over there, we've got four. Bloody good year so far. So where you from?"

"Ross-on-Wye, in Heredfordshire," she said slowly, as Bridget Shunpike joined the Hufflepuff table. Heather nodded.

"I'm from Brighton meself. Mum and Dad own a café. It's absolutely brilliant. All the Muggles ask for our secret ingredient. Think our coffee's like magic," she said, grinning. Thea eased, and found herself chatting willingly with the girl. She got all sorts of impressed looks when she admitted she had started to grow her own cutting of Venomous Tentacula, and was just explaining about the benefits of moon calf fertilizer over dragon when someone flounced into the seat across from her.

As she had expected, Tricia Zabini had been placed in Slytherin. She was also the last student to be sorted. Professor Longbottom had already Vanished the stool and was taking his seat at the high table.

A short, frizzy hair witch stood up, and called out in a merry voice, "Good evening! I am Professor Sprout. On behalf of the faculty, I welcome to another year at Hogwarts. I must say, I am especially pleased with this year's incoming class; the largest in a decade, if I recall correctly. We'll have time to speak afterwards, but for now, enjoy the feast!" As she spoke, food materialized on the tables. Thea, along with several hundred others, joined in enthusiastically.

* * *

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Thea was dimly aware that Sprout had listed off all sorts of rules, and that a grumpy old man with a distinct limp had glared at the students during that part of the speech. After the first few yawns, Sprout dismissed them. Somehow, Thea made it to the dungeons. Behind a bare stretch of wall was the Slytherin dormitory.

It was a long, low room dug into the bedrock. Still, there was artistry everywhere, the surrounding stone carved into arches. Large windows looked into the lake, provided an eerie, beautiful sea foam wash to everything. Silvery lanterns hung from the ceiling, and a roaring fire dominated a large sitting area with several tables and wing backed chairs.

Heather led the girls onward, going toward the left where the sleeping quarters were set in tiers. Theirs proved to be the highest, close to actual surface of the lake. It was a long narrow room, with one wall dominated by enormous panes of glass. Her bed was the farthest back, but she didn't really mind. Though Thea would have been quite happy to collapse in bed, Heather sat them all down for a quick talking to.

"Right. So, below was the common room. That's where most of us hang out and study. If you want a good chair, you'll have to get there early. Remember that you are expected to be back in the Common Room at eight, it'll go up to nine when you're fifth years. If you're in the Common Room, remember that lots of the upper years have exams. It's fine during the day, but at night people tend to be rather focused, so unless you want to get hexed, keep your head down. And remember not to mouth off to the upper years; it's not a good idea, unless you'd like a pair of antlers. This is the dormitory. Other wings are below us. Don't go mucking about with anyone else's bed. A kid did that in my third year, he ended up transferring. There's a washroom at the other end of the hall, you can clean up in there. Let's see, anything else…oh yeah, breakfast at seven. Any questions?"

As a group, the girls stared back dumbly. Thea was amazed she could still process that much information, though she was sure she'd forget it all shortly. Heather just smiled, nodding smartly. "Right." She seemed to be on her way out when she paused, remembering something. "Oh, and just a word to wise, ladies. We have loads of traditions in the house. They're kind of a big deal. Most of its just little stuff, you know, not letting a person from another house inside the Common Room, real obvious stuff. Just be careful. We're pretty good about looking after our own." With that, she was gone.

Thea blinked, taking a minute to register that she was now free to get to bed. She changed, completely exhausted. Only taking the time to put her parent's photo on her nightstand, she was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning, the Slytherins trooped up to the Great Hall. Tricia seemed to have elected herself the leader of their little band, and proved useful in navigating the hallways. They had just settled in to a fine breakfast when a corpulent wizard in very fine but very tight emerald robes waddled down towards them. Thea, busily scribbling a letter to her aunt, didn't take notice until she felt someone nudge her side.

Next to her, Heather leaned down to whisper to the first years. "That's Professor Slughorn. Positively ancient. He's our Head of House, and the Potion's Master. He was supposed to retire years ago, but every teacher they've brought in, he's sacked. Don't worry, he's absolutely brilliant, loads of fun if you know what your doing."

"Schedules! Here they are, make sure you lot are on time, I hate to hand out detentions on the first day," the man said in a jovial voice. Thea found herself smiling at him, though she privately wondered how he managed to get about the castle. The man was positively rotund, with a large, sleek white moustache.

Heather leaned over to look at Thea's day. "Not bad. Herbology should be a cake walk for you, and then it's Potions and Charms in the afternoon."

The large man had reached their end of the table. "Ah, our new first years! Welcome! Welcome to Slytherin House. I am Professor Slughorn, Potion's Master here at Hogwarts. I am training… oh where did that boy get to…anyway, my office is down in the dungeons, door's always open. Have a good day, and I'll see you lot in Potions!" he said, waltzing away like a stout, colorful galley.

* * *

Thea managed to find the greenhouse without much difficulty. She felt something inside her unlock, easing at the familiar smells of fertilizer and growing things. Looking about, she saw she was the first person to arrive. Shrugging, she set her things on the worktable closest to a small but rather spectacular-looking fire seed bush. She had bent down for a closer look when a voice behind her said, "Don't get to close now."

Thea jumped, banging into a sharp desk corner. Wincing, she turned around. Professor Longbottom was standing behind a long worktable at the front of the class, setting up his station busily. Feeling blood rush to her ears, Thea rapidly attempted to make up an excuse. "I'm sorry Professor, I was only…I mean, I just wanted…"

Professor Longbottom waved her excuses away, looking neither appeased nor particularly out of sorts. "No harm done. That cutting's new to the department."

Thea nodded, crouching down on eye level. She saw that a few of the seeds had an unhealthy, ashy tinge to them. She bit her lip; surely Professor Longbottom had already seen to it. But he had said it was new, and if there was one thing she had learned from her aunt, it was that some magical beings, both fauna and flora, didn't always respond in ways expected. She cleared her throat, about to speak up, when a new voice sang out. "Hello Nev- I mean, Professor Longbottom!"

It was the curly-haired girl from the train. She was placing her books and parchment on the desk right in front of the Professor. Longbottom smiled broadly, moving up to give her a quick, one armed hug. "Hello Rosie, how's your first day been? No trouble yet, I trust?"

The girl sniffed, and sounded very disapproving when she replied, "Not from me, at least. But Cousin James has already been up to all sorts of things. It's a wonder he hasn't earned a detention yet. He was an absolute terror on the train ride in."

Professor Longbottom grinned, but his voice was placating. "Don't be too hard on your cousin now, Rosie. James'll be positively depressed that he hasn't managed to cause enough of a ruckus worth punishing. He'll settle down in a few days, once he's reminded the staff why they enjoy summer holiday so much." The girl chuckled, and glanced around the classroom. She flinched.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was anyone else here!" she said, bustling over. Her hand shot out, entirely businesslike as she introduced herself. "Rose Weasley, Gryffindor House." Thea took it, feeling rather shy all of a sudden.

"Yeah, we met on the train," she said, trying a smile. The girl blinked, and Thea pressed on. It seemed rather silly to pretend she hadn't been listening. "So was this cousin of yours the one that got into your trunk? Did you ever find whatever it was he took?"

Rose smiled, her blue eyes alight. "Oh yes! You were in the last cabin, weren't you. And yeah, we did, though it wasn't until after the sorting ceremony. What did you say your name was?"

"I'm Thea. Thea Quinn," she said, feeling her shyness fall away. Rose smiled, and then stiffened. She seemed to be taking in something, and Thea realized her eyes were riveted on the new silver and green tie she wore.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Thea," Rose said, apparently struggling to be polite. "Um… oh! Al, over here, I've got us seats at the front!" Rose waved at a slight, dark haired boy, promptly forgetting all about their introduction.

Meanwhile, someone grabbed her arm, towing her back toward her own bag. Tricia Zabini had her nose in the air, glaring out at anyone who seemed to get in between her and the desk. She nudged Thea into her seat, saying, "I did tell you, you know. Weasleys always care about their own first, anyone else second." Her tone was haughty, but oddly sympathetic. Thea realized this was her first experience with the Gryffindor – Slytherin rivalry. It wasn't at all pleasant, knowing that a friendly exchange had been totally shut down because of her House. Still, she didn't have time to be perplexed, as Professor Longbottom stood, welcoming the students.

The lesson itself proved to be interesting. Professor Longbottom said that, in accordance with a new cross-curricular effort, first year Herbology and Potions classes would be working together to create a basic garden in their first year. Thea, already well acquainted with the common herbs and fungi used in most potions, felt an odd let down. But it had felt rather nice, being able to answer all of Professor Longbottom's introductory questions. It was nicer still when her fellow Slytherins, all thoroughly impressed, asked for her help on the first assignment of the year, a short essay on a magical plant of their choice.

After Herbology came Charms. The moment she crossed the threshold, Thea felt oddly at ease. Standing before an enormous stained glass window was perhaps the kindest witch she had ever seen. Professor Bones was not lovely by any stretch of the imagination, but she radiated peace and seemed to have a kind word for students as she greeted them one by one. The lesson was more of an introduction to the concept of Charms, not strenuous in the least. One their way out, Thea resolved to put extra effort into the assignment, entitled "Charmed by Charms – How I perceive Charms to be useful in my future."

Lunch was after Charms. Thea, though quite ravenous, slipped away from the Great Hall with regret. It smelled lovely. Still, she had made a promise to look in at the kitchens, and now seemed the best time. It was a simple thing, meandering down towards the kitchens as everyone else streamed into the Hall. She found herself in front of a large, exceptionally lifelike bowl of fruit. She tickled the pear, and then clambered through the portrait hole.

Inside was a room easily as large as the Great Hall. Elves stood along each table, vanishing plates heaped with food and conjuring empty ones. Still others tottered along with heavily laden trolleys, delivering fresh goods to the tables set up in mimicry of the ones upstairs.

Thea heard her stomach growl loudly. Almost instantly, an elf appeared at her side. He was a short chap, his ears rather large and droopy. He bowed smartly, his toga crisp and white.

"How can wes help you, miss? You is finding something not to you likings at lunch?" he asked briskly, though Thea thought he was trying not to sound concerned. She knew well how insulting it would be to a house elf to have food returned.

Her words came out in a rush, hoping to put him at his ease. "No! Everything was great, I'm sure, I mean, I haven't had anything yet. Smells delicious though, and looks even better! I'm actually here to see Dorthea? I think she goes by Dotty, actually."

If the creature had looked perplexed before, now he looked positively confused. Thea sighed, and, pulling back her hair, wiggled her ears. "We're cousins, you see."

This revelation seemed to create something of an uproar. Thea found herself at the center of attention, and felt many tiny hands push her towards another figure, being buffeted about just as much. They met in the middle, both highly embarrassed but pleased.

Dotty proved to be a tiny, scrawny thing with an exceptionally long nose and extremely knobby knees. She had plainly tried to look nice for her first day; house elves typically didn't braid their hair, and her toga looked freshly pressed. Thea thought she could see the family resemblance, though. Dotty's ears looked just like granddad's, and she had the same large, catlike grey eyes that ran in the family.

At the moment, the elf was very excited. "Oh I is wondering if you would be coming, yes I is! Da says you would come, he heard it from great uncle Telly, but I is thinking no, cousin will not want to, she is a student here, she is having learning and lessons and friends to make! But you is here!" Dotty was now hugging Thea's knee caps, nearly beside herself in enthusiasm. Thea felt her ears blush, twitching madly.

The house elves, exceedingly pleased to meet some relation, however distant, sent a tea trolley along almost instantly. Thea found herself listening to Dotty talk about her first day thus far, and tried to follow along as best she could. Still, she wasn't entirely unhappy when the elf who had first greeted her bustled up, saying, "Dotty, Miss Amalthea is having to go soon, yes she is. Lessons will be starting, and she is going to be late if she is not hurrying up!"

* * *

It was with many waves and good byes and promises of service that Thea was pushed firmly but politely out the door. She had also ended up with an armful of food. She was still walking toward her next lesson, rather unsure of what to do with it, when she heard a voice behind her. "Hey! Quinn! Wait up!"

Thea froze, and saw Heather Brennan bustling up the corridor. "I was wondering where you were. Blimey, found the kitchens on your first day? And look at that haul! We'll have to put you on the party committee, if you can get this much stuff on the straight," she said, impressed. "Do you mind if I…"

"Take it all," Thea said with feeling. She felt relieved that Heather had not asked any questions, not sure she wanted to admit she was related to a house elf just yet. Heather accepted eagerly, stowing the lot in her bag.

"So how's the first day going?" Heather asked, falling into step with her as she headed back towards the Entrance Hall. "Lesson's alright?"

Though she hadn't meant to, Thea found herself telling Heather all about her morning. She had just finished dwelling on her experience in Herbology when the older girl clapped her on the shoulder. "'S alright, you know. People have been snubbing each other based on their house for ages. It just happens. Take my advice, just make your own reputation. If they come around, great. If not, bugger the lot of em. No sense worrying about a few prats more focused on their house than the people in it." Thea nodded, reflecting to herself that Heather was an exceptionally kind fifth year.

"Why are you so nice to me?" she found herself asking, though she hadn't meant to. Heather shrugged.

"I might tell you, might not. For now let's just leave it at the fact that you're the only first year girl who isn't spoiled, brainless, or so shy its almost socially incapacitating," she said bluntly. "Like I said, we look after our own, within reason. Anyhow, I've got to get to Transfiguration, Fawcett usually likes to start the fifth year's off with an exam. Total wanker, but he is brilliant. Good luck!" With that, Heather waved and started trotting up the stairs.

* * *

Thea's final lesson was Potions. Slughorn had situated himself in a large, ornate chair. Next to him, in a chair that was both distinctly less impressive and less comfortable, sat a young man. He was going bald in a most unfortunate way, losing his hair in patches and desperately combing it over to hide the fact. His eyes were magnified by a huge pair of round, bright red glasses, giving him the regrettable appearance of a fish out of water.

As the students took their seats, the young man cleared his throat. He had just opened his mouth when Slughorn cut him off, gesturing expansively to the class.

"Welcome, welcome! This is Potions, and I am the soon to be Professor Emeritus Horace Slughorn. This year, we have the delightful Professor Septimus Rowle as our Interim Potions Master. Today we will just be going over the basics, a few house keeping things such as making sure we all have cauldrons and the like. Now, how many of you have already had an Herbology lesson?"

The Slytherins raised their hands. The other students, Ravenclaws, didn't. "Very well, very well. As some of you know, I have instituted a new platform for the first year of Potions. In order to better foster an understanding of the properties of ingredients used in potion making, the heads of department have…"

Having heard this same speech a few hours earlier, Thea allowed her mind to wander. The rest of the class proved easily as boring. Slughorn was indeed good natured, but he did tend to wax eloquent on the subject of potions. The main entertainment in the class was the way Professor Rowle kept trying to speak up, only to be constantly bowled over by the effusive Slughorn. Thea left the class feeling a bit unsure. She had a feeling Slughorn would be an excellent teacher, once he had allowed his ego to be stoked. Rowle not so much; he seemed too skittish to be a presence in the classroom. Still, as the Slytherins made their way to dinner, Thea reflected that the day had gone fairly well.

* * *

She left dinner early, feeling incredibly and oddly motivated to start the Charms essay for Professor Bones. She was just approaching a short cut through the dungeons Heather had mentioned over lunch when a sharp squeak of pain made her freeze. There was a thud, and then another squeak, this time followed by laughter. Moving quietly, Thea peered around the corner, staying in the shadows.

A large, hulking boy, a fourth year Slytherin, had cornered a small figure. Thea saw a pair of large, twitching ears, and felt her heart sink. There was another bang, and the elf flinched.

"What are you doin' down here, elf? You don't come to our Common Room till we're done with it," he said, clearly enjoying himself. Bile rose in Thea's throat.

Dotty – of course it was Dotty – replied in a trembling voice, "I is looking for my cousin. She is coming down for…for work, and we is getting separated, ah!" The elf was cut off by another bang, and gasped.

Thea gripped her wand tightly; it was hot, her fingers sweaty. She wished Dotty would just vanish, just disappear, but Thea knew she wouldn't. The elf was plainly terrified. She hated herself for thinking it, but she knew she could just walk away. Dotty didn't know she was here. And even if she did, no one would blame her. Her family wouldn't be angry, though they would certainly be disappointed. And telling off a fourth year had all the hallmarks of exactly what Heather had warned the first year girls not to do.

But Dotty was _family,_ a small voice whispered inside. She was a cousin, just starting her first proper assignment. The only reason she is the dungeon in the first place was because she was looking for her cousin – looking for Thea. Ashamed, Thea began to back away, horrified at her own actions but continuing nonetheless.

The boy pulled out his wand, throwing Dotty back a good four feet. He moved to block the elf into a corner. She could hear a soft sound, like raindrops on cement. Dotty was crying.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and, knowing it would make her life much more complicated, Thea pulled out her wand. She really hoped that Ollivander had been right about its supposed unusual properties, because she had absolutely no idea what she was about to do.

"Oi! Leave her alone!" she shouted, trying to sound more confident than she felt. The boy swung around to face her, a sneer forming on his brutish face.

"Keep movin' if you know what's good for you," he snarled. Behind her, the rest of the Slytherins had caught up. Feeling many eyes on the back of her neck, Thea swallowed hard. Struggling to keep her wand hand steady, she raised it, pointing it right between his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere until you leave the elf alone," she said, voice sounding a bit wobbly to her own ears. Behind her, she could here calls from the crowd.

"C'mon Burke, it's just an elf. Let's go."

"Burke, put 'er in 'er place, mate!"

Burke, the fourth year, seemed inclined to follow the latter suggestion. He turned to face her, his grin showing a few yellowing teeth. "I think I'll have to teach you some manners, firstie," he chuckled.

Thea thanked her lucky stars she had grown up around vicious creatures with a habit of biting first and apologizing later. She dove to the side, feeling the spell whip over her head. She turned sharply, getting Dotty behind her. She leveled her wand at him, thinking wildly, _Do something!_

As Burke turned to face her, a bolt of light blasted him back against the wall. The crowd behind him went silent. Looking from the crowd to the crumpled fourth year, Thea shoved Dotty toward the far staircase, and ran.

* * *

Thea didn't dare come out of the dormitory. A part of her knew she could bluff her way through it, that she could play it off as something dashing and impressive, but she didn't have the nerve. Everything positive about her house had been stripped away. She felt embarrassed by the glowing letter she had sent that morning, so excited, so eager, so thrilled to have found likeminded people. To realize people like Burke were part of what had seemed so wonderful made her feel ill.

She was still hiding when she heard a sharp crack near the foot of her bed. There was Dotty, her silvery eyes glassy. She was disheveled, her hair tangled in knots. Her toga, which had been spotless the night before, was dirty and torn. Her lip was swollen, and a knot was forming on the side of her cheek.

"Hey Dotty," Thea said quietly, trying to shuck her self absorption and focus on the elf. "You alright?" The elf nodded mutely, eyes still swimming with tears. "Good," Thea murmured, unsure of what else to say. A spot of red caught her eye, and she realized Dotty was bleeding. She forced herself into action, saying, "Hang on a tick, I think I've got something in my kit for that. Auntie stocked me up on loads of things before I came here."

She was rummaging in her trunk when the elf spoke. "I-I is getting your letter, and I is thinking, Thea would like to read this tonight before she sleeps. So I is coming downstairs to find you. O-only, you is not here. T-the student is catching me as I went back t-towards the Great Hall," she said softly, tears starting to spill as Thea dabbed some essence of dittany on a cut.

"It's alright, Dotty. I figured as much," she said quietly. She watched, pleased, as the scratch sealed before her eyes. "You are going to report this, aren't you?" she asked. Dotty wouldn't meet her eyes.

"You is going to have trouble as it is. I isn't wanting to be a bother," the elf trailed off, focusing on the wall. Thea grabbed Dotty's thin shoulders and shook her.

"Dotty, he was trying to curse you! If you don't report it, I'm going straight up to the Head's office. I don't care if I get detentions for a month for being out of bed at night, I'll do it, shout it from the battlements if I have to! I'm going to have trouble either way. Don't you dare make up some nonsense excuse like that!" she snapped, seething. She was suddenly very angry with everyone. Dotty for being too kind, herself for resenting the elf, but mostly at Burke for making Dotty feel this way. She felt very small inside when she remembered that she had almost walked away.

Dotty nodded stiffly, and then burst into tears, flinging her scrawny arms around Thea's neck. "I promises, I will. Thank you Cousin," she sobbed. With a loud crack, she vanished.

But still Thea was not alone. At the end of the room by the door stood Tricia Zabini. "_Cousin_?" she asked, incredulous. A wide grin oozed to the surface, and then she was gone, a short, nasty laugh floating up behind her. Thea had the sinking feeling that a bad situation had just grown much, much worse.


	8. Friends on Friday

Hi guys. Thea's had a rough go of it. But things could be looking up! Read on!

I do not own any of the Harry Potter universe

**Chapter Eight: Friends on Friday**

By Friday, Thea was the most miserable she could ever remember being. In the Common Room, no one made eyed contact, spoke, or otherwise had anything to do with her. Books she placed on a desk would be knocked over the moment her back was turned. At least what Heather had said about her bed proved true; though she had found her belongings strewn about the room, her bed had been left untouched.

Out of the dormitory, things were worse, though that seemed impossible. At least in the dormitory, she could retreat to her bedroom. Any time she tried to find a seat in the Great Hall, Slytherins spread their legs and shuffled about, taking up as much room as possible. She quickly learned it was better to just grab food at eat on the grounds, or the in the Entrance Hall. In the actual halls, she was often bumped or jostled. Her unidentified spell had one benefit at least; the display kept people who otherwise would have hexed her at bay.

Her classes ranged from interesting to disastrous. Herbology came easily, and she already knew she adored Professor Bones. Defense Against the Dark Arts was easily the most interesting, and Professer Wolpert was extremely funny. However, so far they had only taken notes. Thea, distinctly aware of several older Slytherin boys who would like nothing more than to curse her into next Thursday, sincerely wished he would get to the practical element soon. Just in case he didn't, she found herself reading ahead, determined to at least get the hang of something defensive. Transfiguration was a fiasco. Professor Fawcett was brilliant, but Thea hadn't liked his cool, drawling tone with the class. She had the impression he thought teaching was below him. In any case, she proved to be absolutely terrible at the subject. The notes looked like total gibberish, and when it came time to Transfigure a match into a needle, all she succeeded in doing was setting her entire desk on fire.

In class, she found herself sitting alone. Professor Bones, a line between her brows, had tried to find her a partner in Charms, but to no avail. No one from Slytherin would go near her, and none of the other first years cared to get involved. Tricia proved especially adept at dissuading anyone inclined to reach out to her. She retreated, keeping notes but never raising her hand. Herbology was a particular kind of trial. Professor Longbottom's eyebrows had dipped lower and lower as she tried to blend into her workstation. She also caught the Weasley girl watching out of the corner of her eye. Thea ignored them both. She had never felt so isolated in her entire life.

Her only consolation was that Burke wasn't waiting for her, seeking revenge. Dotty had kept her promise, going to the Headmistress to report the incident. Through some truly meticulous eavesdropping, Thea learned that Professor Sprout had put him on Probation. He was assigned to the kitchens for the rest of the month, working as a dishwasher for two hours each night. It wasn't that surprising that he didn't have the energy for payback just yet. Still, it was a bittersweet victory; Burke being up to his elbows in greasy pans and cauldrons didn't make eating alone any easier.

* * *

As soon as the free period rolled around on Friday, Thea made a desperate bid for freedom. She took all her work with her out onto the sloping lawn, settling beneath a large elm tree. Still, it was hard to stay focused on her work when she was felt so wretched. Reflecting back, she berated herself, and, unfair though it was, she blamed Dotty. If only the elf hadn't been in the hallway. Or if only Thea hadn't tried to take the short cut. She knew, deep down, that if she had to, she'd do it again, but it didn't make her feel any better about being made a social pariah.

She in the middle of wallowing, feeling quite sorry for herself, when a large shadow fell over her. Gripping her wand tightly, half-expecting a jinx or curse, she flinched when several chicken feathers floated down on to her notes.

"Well, what do we 'ave 'ere," a voice rumbled from somewhere very high up. Thea had to crane her neck back to be able to make eye contact. Her visitor was Professor Hagrid, who seemed to be on the way to feed some manner of creature or another. His eyes were kind as he said, "Sittin' alone doin' school work on such a fine day? A bit keen, aren' yeh?"

Thea scambled to her feet, backing up a few steps so as not to get a crick in her neck. "I just wanted some fresh air," she said quickly. It was partly true, she justified to herself. She was used to being outside a lot more than she had found time for yet. Still, she knew that a part of her would have liked very much to be with the other students almost anywhere inside the castle.

"Fresh air, eh? Well, tha's reasonable. Come on then. I reckon there's loads of fresh about the grounds. Particularly good by my house." Professor Hagrid began striding off towards the cabin next to the Forbidden Forest. Looking back, he saw Thea was still standing under the tree, both stunned and slightly suspicious. "Get a move on, Quinn!" he yelled. With a start, she haphazardly threw her belongings into her school bag and trotted of after the large man.

By the time Thea reached his cabin, Professor Hagrid was setting up chairs on the lawn overlooking his pumpkin patch. He waved her over, passing her tea cup the size of a feed bucket. Thea wondered if she should ask for a straw, and decided against it.

Meanwhile, the professor was settling himself comfortably. "So, 'ow's yer Aunt Chloris doin' these days?" he asked easily, picking up a knife the size of her arm and beginning to whittle away at what looked like a piece of a tree trunk.

"Oh. She's doing quite well, thanks," she replied, rather startled. Professor Hagrid grinned widely.

"Yeh shouldn't 'ave favorites, mind, but yer aunt, she was somethin' special. She was my first N.E.W.T. student, did she tell yer? Mind, she only had the class with herself, but I reckon that made it more fun fer the both of us. By the time her exams rolled around, she earned herself an' O in every single category. After tha', I never 'ad a problem with class sizes." He paused, drinking deeply from his cup. "Yeh, I owe a lot to yer aunt. An' then she goes on to make 'er own stables an' everything. Right proud of her, I am," he said, sniffing loudly and blowing his nose on an enormous yellow handkerchief. Once he had himself under control, he smiled. "Anyhow, I hear you was the one took care of that liddle thestral, the summer I was gone."

Glad to have found a topic she could converse about easily, Thea nodded. "Yeah, Thaddeus. I just call him Tad though, except when I'm cross with him. He's been wonderful, real fun," she said with a wobbly smile. Professor Hagrid nodded encouragingly, and she continued, "I really miss him. We've never been apart this long."

"It can be hard, when yeh can't take yer animals with yeh," the professor said understandingly. "But you've got to get trained up. Thestrals are dead clever animals. I'm sure your Tad understands, an' doesn't think less of yeh for it. An' he'll be right happy to see you, next time tha' comes around." Thea nodded, sighing unhappily. She couldn't help but think that all the vacation time in the world wouldn't make it easier. Professor Hagrid, seeing her expression, began to quiz her on Tad's habits, eventually drawing out what she knew about other animals.

They had been talking for quite some time when a voice shouted, "Hagrid!" from across the lawn. They both looked up, and saw two figures hurrying over. Thea rapidly drained her mug, standing.

"Thanks a lot, Professor Hagrid," she said. "This was…" she paused, thinking over her passed week. "I needed this," she admitted. And she had. She had forgotten why she had been so excited about Hogwarts in the first place.

"Why don't yeh stay?" Professor Hagrid asked kindly. "Might be nice, meetin' some kids from other houses. It's always good to know a few."

Thea scuffed her feet, knowing that her ears were turning red. "I-I really couldn't, Professor. They're your guests and all, and I'd just be in the way." She was about to be on her way when something made her say, "But…maybe next time?"

The large man smiled. "Next Friday at three. Be sure to drop a line to yer aunt, givin' her my regards. Best student I ever had, her." Thea nodded eagerly. He waved her off. "Aright now, off you go."

* * *

She had made her way almost to the front steps, feeling considerably better about herself, when a student stepped in her way.

"Have you and the gamekeeper started some half-breed support group?" Tricia asked loudly. Behind her, a few other students – mostly Slytherin first and second years – sniggered.

Thea refused to take the bait. She tried to walk around, only to have Tricia step in front of her again. She started to count to ten. "You don't like my family, that's your problem. But I am done listening to you say awful things about them. Now get out of my way."

Tricia smirked, and carried on. "He's half giant, you know. Did you go there looking for some work? Something to clean, maybe? I've heard he's some kind of wild man, barely able to clean himself," she continued snobbishly. The audience chuckled, growing in volume.

Thea felt her ears twitching madly, but she didn't think about that. She didn't think about the fact that it was broad daylight, that teachers were bound to be about, or that she was outnumbered. All she could remember was sitting alone, and Dotty crying. Something surged inside her, seething and hot. And then everything was still as she met Zabini's eyes. The girl took a step back.

"You are such a pretentious, worthless little brat. Is that why your daddy's never home, I wonder?"

She knew as soon as she said it that she had struck a nerve. Tricia flinched. Thea pressed forward. A part of her felt absolutely awful for saying it, but the larger part of her didn't care.

"Shut up! You're just some stupid mudblooded half breed!" Tricia said shrilly, flags of color high on her cheeks.

Thea leveled her wand right between Tricia's eyebrows. "You want to have a go? Try it if you think you're hard enough. But until you get the guts, why don't you just piss off and keep your mouth off my family and my friends. Or else I promise you I will look up to most inventive and ill-advised set of hexes I can find, and use you for target practice," she said, feeling very cold all of a sudden. Thea realized that she was completely serious. She was rather surprised, and proud of herself for saying it all. "And if anyone else has a problem with my granddad, they're welcome to say it to my face."

She swung back to Tricia, feeling like her entire body was encased in a glacier. "Move," she hissed. Zabini backed away, and Thea walked through the ranks of her housemates. She didn't notice the smothered grins or the approving nods.

* * *

She was nearly to the dungeons when Heather fell into step with her. "Well done, that," she said easily, as if they hadn't spent the better part of the week ignoring each other.

"What kind of a prefect are you, letting that go on?" Thea spat, her temper in full spate. Heather's smile was definitely a bit sheepish. It helped take the edge off Thea's anger.

"I did warn you," she said self-righteously as they approached the Common Room. "And if you're going to go gadding off, crusading to save house elves and stamp out blood prejudice, you're going to have to start as you mean to carry on. We're all about action here. You can't stare down a fourth year and then forget to stand up for yourself."

"Well its long overdue," Thea said waspishly, stomping up the stairs toward her dormitory. "Either we're the greatest house in the school, or we're just thugs like Burke. You said being a Slytherin meant more. So it should be more. A lot more than picking on an elf because she's there," she said softly, her cheeks heating as she felt her eyes prickle. When she sniffed, she found a handkerchief waved in front of her eyes.

Heather was leaning down, smiling kindly. "You're right. It should mean more. I'll try to get some of them to lay off. But you need to stick to your guns. Don't let them hassle you, keep your wits about you, and hang in there. Things'll look up soon enough," she paused, looking at something beyond. "In fact, it looks like they are already! See you at dinner!" she said heartily, waving as she moved to enter her own dormitory.

Standing in the door was the waifish Emerson Price. She was looking at her shoes, clearly very interested in the manner in which they had been tied. Thea waited, not really sure what was coming. While Emerson had always been with Tricia during her teasing, she had never taken part. In fact, Thea didn't think she'd heard the girl speak beyond their first introduction.

The girl took deep breath, and then bustled in, stopping in front of Thea's bed. She met her eyes, and Thea was surprised to see she didn't flinch at all. It was more of a backbone than she'd expected.

"Tricia's still on the grounds, moaning about how you're some kind of harpy," she said, voice steady. Thea stiffened; now she was very unsure of what was going on. "I told her to bugger off and bother someone else from now on. My mum 'n dad are Muggles, and I don't want to feel bad about that any more," Emerson said firmly. She looked over at the open space by Thea's bed. "Could you help me move my bed over?"

Understanding dawned slowly. When it did, Thea grinned broadly, vaulting off the bed to help rearrange some things. It seemed she wasn't totally on her own after all.

* * *

Well, there we have it! She's finally managed to make a friend! I have to say I've tried to make Thea a bit of a jerk. She's definitely self centered, prickly, and kind of a cross patch. Emerson is going to be a good influence on her.

I really struggled with the action here. I wanted a kind of walk and talk sequence, but I don't know that I got that exact effect. I may be revising it...

Anyway, thanks again! Read and review!


End file.
